


The Companion Coffee Shop

by HelenaHermione



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-03 05:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaHermione/pseuds/HelenaHermione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 2008: When Barbara Wright Chesterton, and other familiar characters and companions, meet in a 'generic' coffee shop, Tricia Delaney and other customers are in for a shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start of Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> Barbara gets involved with a very strange group of people, and learns more about the Doctor.

**Chapter 1: The Start of Another Day**

**  
**

It was around 10 in the morning and Tricia Delaney was already feeling exhausted with today. There just seemed to be more 'newbies' in line than usual--the sort that couldn't figure out the cup sizes, what sort of flavor they wanted, a few that probably had never tried an espresso before.

 

As she rang up another order, she briefly thought of her old friend Rose, who had died a year ago at Canary Wharf. Why she would be at Canary Wharf, Tricia had no idea, although Rose had sort of dropped off and vanished long before that. Rose had always hated manning the cash register at Henrik's Department Store-always having to deal with annoying customers and standing still for too long. Rose preferred floor duty, rearranging the clothing piles and checking up on everything being neat and orderly.

 

Of course, Rose had not even been satisfied with that and when Henrik's blew up-well, Tricia had always suspected that Rose must have had a hand behind that, especially with the way she swanned off not long afterwards. Of course, it had taken awhile for her to arrange a date with Rose's old boyfriend, Mickey Smith, but now he was gone as well, probably gone after Rose.

 

"Excuse me, miss," said the next person in line, an old lady. "I would like a short cup of blended crème, vanilla, and here is a salad."

 

Trisha Delaney rang up the order and, as per instructions, recited, "Would you also like to purchase an exclusive CD of _Johnny Chess: Silver Year Hits_ at just 9 pounds?"

 

There was an odd, slightly exasperated smile on the old woman's face as she replied, "No, miss, just the salad and the short cup will do."

 

With that, Barbara Wright Chesterton gathered up her purchase and stepped out of line, walking towards the back of the coffee shop. She glanced around, slightly nervous and feeling ridiculous, coming all the way to London to meet an anonymous face from the Internet.

 

About a year ago--six months and 18 days after Ian had died--her son John, otherwise known as 'Johnny Chess' to all of the fans of this 80s pop star, had suggested that she should try to be more adventurous. Get connected to more people outside of the village, namely by using Ian's old computer to go online.

 

For awhile, Barbara resisted the idea or only sat in the office chair for an hour at a time, staring at the blank screen and recalling how Ian had often occupied this same spot until he had gotten too sick to use the computer. Eventually, she managed to turn on the machine and logged on, but once online, she had no clue as to how to 'get connected' to others. She was probably too old compared to other users--with that thought, she suddenly recalled another old man, the traveler that she and Ian had found inside a police telephone box in a junkyard, and how he had always been ready to explore anywhere.

 

So Barbara, after refining several searches, stumbled upon an exclusive chat-room, tucked into a corner of the Internet and only utilized by a few users, and latched onto this group, typing up her own adventures and reading the experiences of others that had met the Doctor over the years. A few chats had dissolved into squabbles, when it came to describing the Doctor, but eventually it was conclusively settled amongst them that all of these were one and the same.

 

Some users dropped out of the community, saying that they were tired of just chatting and were intent on finding him, but Barbara had not really been too interested in them. Instead she was in constant contact with user Duchess66, and now the other woman had requested a meeting here, at this coffee shop in London.

 

After deliberating for awhile, and talking to John about her online activities, she finally decided that it may be safe enough to meet with this online friend, especially in the middle of a busy coffee shop like this one. Right now, Barbara was looking for the mark that had been settled upon to identify Duchess66 and she soon spotted it, the romantically idealized cover of _Starry Highlands_ , a romance novel being read by a woman roughly 15 or 20 years younger than Barbara.

 

"Ah, pardon me," Barbara stepped forward toward the woman, who lowered her novel. "By any chance, are you…Duchess66?"

 

The woman nodded and smiled, holding out her hand as she said, "That's right, my name is Polly Jackson. You must be Yetaxa801, am I right?"

 

Barbara slowly sat down, staring at the other woman as she murmured, "Yes, Barbara, Barbara Wright Chesterton… _the_ Polly Jackson? The one that used to write the music and arts column for the Times about…oh, so long ago?"

 

Polly laughed and replied, "Yes, quite awhile ago, I still contribute a few pieces now and then just to get my opinion out there, but tastes change and there were other matters. So, Barbara, wherever have you been?"

 

Barbara blinked for a moment, wondering what she meant, but then she slowly nodded and murmured, "Yes, where have I been…for the past few decades, Ian and I lived in one of the northern villages, but now he's gone. Before, we used to be colleagues at Coal Hill school. He taught science and I taught history, until…there was this strange girl, who knew too little and yet too much, and one night we followed her home, but it was a junkyard and in this junkyard, we found this old police box."

 

Polly smiled as she listened to Barbara talk. "After that, with Susan and her grandfather, the Doctor, we traveled so far…we met cavemen and Marco Polo and Romans and French revolutionaries. We fought against Daleks and Susan left us, and…eventually, Ian and I made it home. We had been gone from 1963 to 1965, but so much had happened to us, and it had seemed like so much longer--we did so much. Ian was actually knighted by Richard the Lion-Hearted, and Yetaxa? It's a bit of vanity in my old age, something that I can look back on with a smile, that the Aztecs once thought that I was the reincarnation of their high priestess."

 

Polly sighed and said, "Oh, that sounds marvelous, traveling with the Doctor does give one an adventure, I must say that--I hitched a ride with him about a year or so after you left and, yes, some of it was an absolute nightmare for me. Still, Ben was there for me and, looking back, we had some laughs and tears on the way...you have my condolences, I am sure that your Ian was a good man. Anyway, the reason why I requested that we should meet is because we know so little about any others that met the Doctor. Those of us still in the London area have been trying to make and keep contact with each other."

 

"So…how many are there, in this area of London, that have met the Doctor?"

 

"Well, counting Ben and myself, that makes about…10 people, a too limited community, especially when most of us are former members or associates of UNIT-oh, hold on, there's Ben. Ben! Over here!"

 

Barbara turned her head as the bell over the door rang and a hearty senior gentleman, dressed casually in slacks, stepped into the coffee shop and waved when he spotted his wife. He pulled out a pen from his pocket and clicked it-a second later he was gone and a mixer behind the counter was knocked over, splattering Trisha Delaney-and a second later, Ben was sitting at the table beside Polly.

 

Barbara blinked, Trisha screamed, and Polly hissed, "Ben, whatever in the world did you do? What is that gadget?"

 

Ben tucked the 'pen' back into his pocket and answered, "Well, from what I've heard, the people over at Torchwood have been talking about calling it a 'Quick-Second-Stopper', but personally I think it should be called the Avoider. Is this not just the most fantastic thing you've ever seen, duchess? Oh, is this that Yetaxa? Hello, I am Ben Jackson, retired Admiral, but one of the fringe benefits is that I still can keep touch with the latest developments! What did you think, did the Doctor ever have anything like this or what?"

 

Barbara cleared her throat and replied, "Well, that…that was very strange, I don't think the Doctor would have ever used a thing like that. No, even when he would get irrational, he was always patient when it came to time…he appreciated it. Personally, I don't think I would ever want to use such a device, I fear it's just too fast for me."

 

Polly nodded and exclaimed, "Good for you, Barbara, speaking up like that! Really, Ben, I don't like that thing either and from what you've told me about Torchwood, how they were involved in that frightful battle not too long ago, all of those Cybermen and Daleks…brought back some of my worst memories, it did."

 

Barbara shuddered as she recalled how she had almost had a heart attack, huddled in her bathroom with a Cyberman standing over her, while Ben muttered, "Sorry, I won't mess with the Avoider again. Well, Barbara, on behalf of everyone, welcome to our little companion community! Here, you want another cup?"

 

Barbara shook her head and said, "No, thank you, barely have taken a sip of this one. Well, Polly, I must say that I understand why you read such novels as that one you have, _Starry Highlands_ …needing to find a real romance."

 

Ben cleared his throat as Polly laughed and said, "Oh, Barbara, let's go easy on Ben, he's already apologized. Anyway, this is a fairly moderate novel, you know, I've met the author and she…she really is a proper lady. In fact, you'll probably meet her soon enough. You might as well stick around for awhile as well and meet the rest of the gang. The best of the best, or what not, they're all good people and have plenty of memories to share about the Doctor--what a Time Lord."

 

Barbara queried, "What, the is Doctor is--what or who?"


	2. What Heart Heard of, Ghost Guessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara settles in and gets introduced to another member of the Companion Coffee Shop club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, all this time later, I'm posting the second chapter. This entire story was originally published on FanFiction.net from 2007 to 2013, but I have decided to include it on here as well. Enjoy.

Polly went to grab another espresso as Barbara properly introduced herself to Ben, who then explained about what little was known about the Doctor as a Time Lord, and told her about how he had witnessed his first regeneration, as Barbara marveled over how…crafty the Doctor proved to be, once again. It was not just enough that he could travel across time and space, but he could cheat death as well and find ways of slipping out of those cold clutches, aging forwards and then backwards, forwards and then backwards, a cycle limited and yet infinite to her.

"It's unfair, really, I just don't see…" Barbara murmured as Polly returned.

"What's the matter? Ben, did you upset her?"

"No, he didn't, I'm sorry…I just can't help thinking about Ian, that is all. I just got caught up in that chat-room as a way to reconnect with the time we fell in love with each other, when everything seemed like an adventure even with the risks, but now I just don't know if I want to know everything. I mean, there were so many mysteries about the TARDIS and the Doctor and the universe…yes, just coming here to London, I was sort of thinking it might be the start of a little adventure for me, something to look forward to now that Ian is gone. However, I don't want the mysteries to be spoiled for me, not when I fear I might…resent the Doctor, not when he brought me and Ian together in the first place."

Ben slowly nodded and told her, "Ms. Chesterton, I understand your feelings, but you do not have to worry about us spoiling the Doctor's mysteries too much…what I've already said, that's just as far as we know. No, this little club or what not, we're as familiar as we want to be about our past with the Doctor, talking about the little adventures and about our own lives afterwards, it's just as you say, a way to reconnect. Here, let me tell you about when I met Polly here, back in 66 when I was just a merchant marine and some fellow accosted her in a nightclub here in town…what was it called?"

Polly replied, "The Inferno, I went there with Dodo,"

Ben nodded and said, "Right, she was a very cheerful teenager, I can't imagine the shock she must have had traveling with the Doctor. In fact, she was forced to leave for the countryside, or so she told us, while the Doctor had to defeat WOTAN, that was this big, intelligent computer that could have wiped out all of humanity."

Barbara sipped her blended crème, remarking, "As opposed to the small, intelligent computers that could unite all of humanity in the next generation, or so I've heard."

As Ben and Polly continued talking about some of their adventures with the Doctor, Trisha Delaney was manning the counter once more, after slipping off to the convenience to wash off the blended coffee, but was once more confronted with a 'newbie'. She was a middle-aged woman, maybe older than 40 with straight brown hair already turning gray, yet her face was still sweet enough with big blue eyes staring up at the board listing all of the beverages. After awhile, with Trisha rolling her eyes and the others grumbling in the line behind her, Victoria Waterfield Harris made her selection of cappuccino and walked to the back of the coffee shop, where Ben and Polly stopped their conversation to greet her.

"Victoria! Barbara, this is Victoria Waterfield Harris and Victoria, this is Barbara Wright Chesterton, Yetaxa801."

As Barbara and Victoria shook hands, Victoria noticed the book that Polly had pushed to the side and exclaimed, "Oh, Polly, please put that away! It's embarrassing!"

Polly grinned and picked up Starry Highlands, opening it up to the last page as she read, "And so I stood on the gray shore of the north, the tide rolling in and out as always with its grating roar as my highlander rode away, back to higher ground near heaven in his village by the loch, while I remained by the tranquil bay, free of fear and yet of so much more. The End."

Victoria sat down in the chair and replied, "I should have used a pseudonym with all of those romance novels, it wasn't quite reputable, but one has to find a way of earning money in these…modern times, even if one is a woman."

Barbara blinked and queried, "Did you write that? Oh, but it does sound like an excellent novel, really, there is something of a refinement to that passage…where did you learn to write like that?"

"Oh, when I originally came from, such writing would have been frowned upon as being too simple, the Victorian time was quite too strict and one may have had a hard time surviving as a writer with such poor style, especially with no one else in the Waterfield family left. Still, I must say that arriving over a century later has provided advantages, good education, and romance novels were big enough in the late '80s and early '90s that I am still receiving cheques for them."

"Victorian…oh, you must have traveled with the Doctor! Uh, the highlander in your novel, does he happen to be…"

Victoria sighed and said, "Jamie, and no, when his departure was a little less romantic than that…the TARDIS landed in 1982 on the North Sea, literally on the North Sea, and there was this seaweed monster attacking a rig…oh, sometimes one has to realize that enough is enough with Yetis and Cybermen and all sorts of monsters. The Doctor was so kind about it, he allowed me to make my own decision, but Jamie just didn't understand, when we parted, but there was such a warrior nature to him that none of it had daunted him. The Harris family and I went out to the shore to wave farewell as the Doctor and Jamie went out to the TARDIS in a dinghy…not very romantic, or melodramatic, but one can look back and dream a little. The terrible confusion and shortcomings can prove, in hindsight, to yield to such treasured memories and to such visualizing of what could have been, of what adventures could have led to so much more between us."

Ben took a sip out of Polly's espresso as he remarked, "Oh, writers are always good at that, broadening the scope of imagination. Still, sometimes, it does require a hard man to see the world for what it is and to deal with it, you know, a stout character who can handle any crisis and is not afraid to use a little force."

Polly snatched her cup back from her husband as she retorted, "Oh, men are always thinking that every situation calls for immediate force, the only male I know who didn't approach everything so aggressively was the Doctor and he wasn't human at all!"


	3. Old Ulysses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting of the Companion Coffee Shop comes to an end with a disturbing event and the arrival of the Brigadier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter three; again, I first started posting this story back in 2007, in the middle of...well, you know. For the first half, this story is in the middle of that series, although that changes later in the second half. (I've added one or two lines in this repost about Kate.)

While Barbara and Victoria both discussed the Victorian era, the former history teacher asking what it had been like to live as a young woman in that era, Trisha Delaney raised her head as the door opened. A white-haired man, brushed back in a mane complemented by his roughly-trimmed gray mustache and beard, staggered into the coffee shop, grinning with his bushy still-brown eyebrows slightly cocked.  
The old man stumbled to the counter, ignoring the line, and leaned against the counter as he said, "Ah, my good lady, would you kindly give me a cup of black coffee? None of those frills, thank you, I would rather just have a plain shot of caffeine."

At the back of the coffee shop, Ben Jackson stood and said, "Excuse me, ladies, I must take care of Brigadier."

Ben rushed over to the front counter as the ladies turned their heads to watch as Barbara queried, "Is that another companion?"

Victoria smiled and responded, "Hard to say, really, Brigadier has never been in the TARDIS as far as I know, but he has seen the Doctor many times with many of his faces. Please, don't mind his state right now, for he really is a nice fellow when he doesn't drink quite so much."

Polly pulled over another table and chair as Ben led the Brigadier over, the older man taking his seat as he slurred, "Thanks, old boy, but you should go back and get me that coffee on the double, the sooner I get my hands on that brew, the sooner I'll be back in my prime! Hop to it, man!"

Admiral Ben Jackson smiled and did a quick salute as Polly sat back down at her own seat and tried not to giggle, telling her husband to hurry back soon. Ben headed back towards the front of the shop and the back of the line at the counter, bobbing his head toward Trisha, who scowled at him for having such a rude acquaintance.

Meanwhile, the Brigadier turned and noticed Barbara, holding out his hand as he said, "Madam, I am General Sir Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, although you may call me Brigadier like everyone else. Even my own daughter does at times."

Barbara shook his hand and told him, "Barbara, Barbara Wright Chesterton, I once traveled with the same Doctor that Ben and Polly did before…he changed, as they have told me. So, what experience did you have with the Doctor?"

The Brigadier chuckled and replied, "Every time I have seen the Doctor these last few years, it seems as if he has a new face, but let's get things straight. I first met him in 1968 or so, he was traveling with Victoria here and the highlander, Jamie, and we dealt with some Yetis in the Underground."

Barbara blinked and stammered, "Y…Yetis? In the Underground?"

Ben Jackson came back, handing a cup of latte over to Brigadier, who frowned at the drink for a moment. "Really, there is no need for these frills for coffee. Anyway, that has not been the strangest thing that has ever happened whenever the Doctor comes around. For awhile, he was a consultant with my command, UNIT, his face was different and then he changed again not long before he left regular duty…should I explain?"

"No, Ben here told me a little about his…'regenerations' just before you came. What was that emphasis on unit?"

Brigadier took a sip of his latte, making a face. "No, not plain unit, it's an acronym U-N-I-T, used to be part of the United Nations, but now our sponsorship is a little bit...muddled. Anyway, I suppose I have met the Doctor in five or six different regenerations, I should say, maybe there might have been one other, my memory does pay tricks on me, but the last one was a decade or more ago. Still, I have heard a little of his involvement in some recent affairs from some of my colleagues, as I still serve as a consultant here and there and my daughter is a scientific advisor with UNIT, just like the Doctor was. I'm proud of her for that. But at the moment, there has been no unusual activity since the Battle of Canary Wharf and Torchwood. Anyway, as a member of this group, I make a motion that we should consider a new place to meet up, maybe a library or…a pub?"

Polly Jackson and Victoria W. Harris immediately protested, saying that this was a place public enough for all of them to gather without arousing suspicion and yet private enough that they would not be bothered, and a coffee shop was much healthier in their old age than a pub. Ben sided with Brigadier, peaking up at the mention of the latter, while Barbara remained silent, uncertain that she was in any position to contribute to the dispute, being a newcomer and living outside of London, she likely couldn't be a regular member. Still, Ms. Chesterton found herself feeling at ease with these former companions and the affinity between them could not be ignored, not when she needed such with Ian gone from her life. Thus, she knew that she would maintain the link with regular communication in their online chat-room, especially when she could guess the names and faces for their avatars, and she would visit London and the meetings at least once every two weeks, maybe more if manageable.

Just then, a woman rushed into the coffee shop and screamed, "Aliens! Everyone, the Royal Hope Hospital has just gotten sucked up into the sky, the whole building is gone, nothing but a gaping hole in the ground! It's aliens again!"

Some of the crowd in the coffee shop immediately rushed out to see the scene for themselves, while a few scurried home out of fear, though some skeptics, despite the uproar of the last year or so, still remained in their positions. Trisha Delaney was one of those, the loons could go and gawk, they had nothing better to do while she had to man her post and deal with the horde besieging her, calling out for their lattes and espressos, the coffee platoon. For the companions sitting at the back of the coffee shop, the dispute died down and they sat there, staring at their drinks and occasionally taking a sip as they listened to the initial rush of believers leaving, stunned and yet wearied enough to let the news sink in and consider how the years had changed.

At last, Polly Jackson glanced down at her watch and murmured, "Ah, yes, I have a card game lined up at a friend's house and I suppose I should stop by and see if she is still having it. We might as well go, Ben, I don't think any of the others are stopping by, not with all of the fuss. You know, they're needed elsewhere, some might have been called up on stand-by for any casualties and at least one woman will be at the scene to get a report, maybe try and spot…him again or what not."

Brigadier chuckled and said, "Oh, she did talk, when she saw him after that trouble at the school. Anyway, bye Polly and Ben, Victoria, it was nice to meet you, Barbara. May I call you Barbara?"

Barbara slowly nodded and cleared her throat as she remarked, "I really must go home now, it was nice to meet you all and I'll sign on to chat soon enough. Please tell me about the next meeting, where and when, and I may return to London to attend."

With that, the five companions stood and shook hands, exchanging farewells as they gathered up their drinks, food, and belongings and left the coffee shop, walking out and parting in various directions, though making sure not to head towards the source of the uproar, the missing Royal Hope Hospital. They weren't too inclined to get involved right now, especially if they couldn't help.

Meanwhile, the phone rang inside the coffee shop and, with no customers currently at the counter, Trisha went to answer and had barely spoken the name of the coffee shop before the voice on the other end of the line began to speak. "Hello, I don't know where this place is, but I know someone there must know of the Doctor! No other name, he's not on your records, he's just the Doctor! Listen, if he turns up, if he causes any trouble, you must call me! He is a dangerous man, a dangerous…alien. My number is-"

"Hey!" Trisha yelled into the phone. "I don't know what you're talking about, this is just a coffee shop!"

The voice on the other end of the line was silent for a moment and then queried, "Uh…so this is not Royal Hope Hospital?"

Trisha Delaney slammed the phone and stormed back to the counter, muttering about freaks.


	4. The Hesitant Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Harry Sullivan joins the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: time periods in series 3 were more constricted to a couple of days, but I'm stretching that out over a couple of weeks now. (Again, I added one or two lines about Kate.)

It was a week after her first meeting when Barbara Wright Chesterton, visiting the online chat room to try and get more information from the others about what had happened, received a reply from K9Handler: Meeting at the coffee shop, day after tomorrow at the same time, hope you can make it. Sorry I didn't meet you last time, had some business, but looking forward to it! Barbara smiled at the courteous post and phoned her son Johnny to tell him that she was going back to London, day after tomorrow, to visit with her online group again.

"Oh, mother, I was hoping to come up and see you before I went to Japan!" Johnny yelled into the phone; she could tell that he was partying in another hotel room again. "The Silver Year Hits is big over there, this could really jump-start my career again! Listen, she called again, and I really think you should-"

"No, Johnny, I cannot deal with your old problems!" Barbara shouted right back into the phone so that he could hear. "You were the one that used to be married to her, it's your responsibility to check up on her yourself! Anyway, I am going to London again, you're the one that encouraged me to be more adventurous, and I thank you for that! Good luck in Japan, I'll see you when you get back!"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The bell rang over the door in the coffee shop just as Tricia (Author's note: that's how to really spell Trisha) Delaney stepped up to the counter, while her friend Jessica rushed out to help clean up a spill. Barbara walked into the coffee shop, avoiding the latte puddle and the employee bending down to aid an awkward, gray-haired man in wiping up the mess.

"I'm sorry, miss, there was this young fellow that came running into the shop-probably a uni student-and he crashed right into me before he ran out again!"

"Yes, he was handing in a job application, sir. He did apologize before he left, though. Would you like to register a complaint against him? I have his name and address right here."

"Uh…I don't think…"

Barbara didn't hear anymore as she headed up to the counter, though she did feel sympathetic to the fellow, who was slightly younger than her; young people these days could be rude. She ordered another short cup of vanilla blended crème; as Tricia tapped it out on her cash register, the young woman got a strange feeling of déjà vu.

Barbara paid and received the cup from the young woman before she turned to walk towards the back of the coffee shop, spotting the Brigadier already seated at the regular table. She smiled to see that his white hair was combed slightly into submission; when he spotted her, he motioned toward the chair across from him and she sat down, setting her cup near the wall. Up front, Tricia scoffed as she watched the old man apologizing profusely to Jessica, then she turned her head to see that the old woman was sitting near the back, across from another…familiar face; she frowned as she recognized that this might be a 'regular' table.

"Hello again, Barbara," the Brigadier smiled and held out his hand. "How was the trip?"

Barbara reached over and shook his head, wincing slightly at his firm grip. "Oh, not so bad, I should say. So, are we the only ones here so far?" Barbara glanced around.

"Yes, but they'll turn up." The Brigadier lifted the lid slightly off of his cup to see how much was left. "Looks like a Silurian could live down there. Anyway, I came right in at 1000 hundred hours and it's just a little after, so I suppose the others are running a little late. However, I know that Polly and Ben were attending a soiree last evening, so they may or may not be coming, depends on how much…fun they had."

Barbara nodded and murmured, "Yes, my son John sometimes has that same problem. By the way-"

"Hello, Brig," a man suddenly interrupted. Barbara blinked and turned her head, staring up at an awkward man with gray, curly hair and a sweet smile, dressed neatly; she recognized him as the man who had been squatting on the floor, cleaning up his latte spill.

"Dr. Sullivan," the Brigadier sighed, "I was just in the middle of a conversation with our newest member."

The other man blinked and turned to face Barbara. "Oh, I'm sorry, you must think me rude! I am Dr. Harry Sullivan and you must be Mrs. Chesterton, I had heard that you would be coming last week. Unfortunately, I got a little bogged down with an assignment and I couldn't make it, but I hope the others gave you a good reception!"

Harry pulled out a chair beside the Brigadier, with a briefcase in his other hand, and sat down with a grunt as he shifted slightly before he lifted his briefcase onto the table. The Brigadier elbowed him and then straightened his back, coughing as he eyed the case like it was a coiled cobra. 

Barbara took a sip of her blended crème and then lightly smiled. "Oh, yes, they did give me a nice reception. By the way, Dr. Sullivan, is your online name K9Handler?"

"Huh? Oh, just call me Harry. K9Handler? No, that would be…that would be Sarah Jane Smith, yes. She will probably come in later, once she finishes her reports."

"Reports and assignments," Barbara murmured to herself. "It's starting to sound as if almost everyone who was involved with the Doctor has government work."

"What? Oh, no, not everyone…though, now that we're on the topic of work, I really must speak with you, Brig. You see, what with the recent fiascos, I have been asked to reexamine general procedure in crisis situations and-"

"No, do your own paperwork." The Brigadier muttered and took a gulp of his coffee.

"I need to consult with a military expert about how trained soldiers might tackle a situation. We need more discipline and diplomacy where civilians are involved. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't urgent, but-"

"Why wouldn't you ask me?"

"Oh?" Harry had been opening his briefcase, but suddenly he paused and slammed it shut. "Uh, on second thought, perhaps I shall wait to deal with this paperwork and just go grab another cup of latte. I really shouldn't mix business with my leisure, it's so rare that I just get the chance to talk-"

"Forget the coffee and open up the case, Harry. I want to look at those papers."

"Well…I must confess that perhaps I misjudged the situation. I was just so wrapped up in my work that I forgot-Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, please don't grab for my briefcase like that! This is exactly why I shouldn't have asked you to help!"

The Brigadier removed his hands from his grip on the case, raising them up as Barbara grinned. "Oh, Harry, what is the problem with the Brigadier helping you?"

"…The truth of the matter is, Ms. Chesterton," Harry began, "Our very own Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart has a reputation for…not always handling a situation with diplomacy. He kept discipline at UNIT, yes, but he wasn't always a negotiator."

"Harry, she doesn't have to hear about this," the Brigadier muttered as he shook his head. "Maybe I made some mistakes, but usually I had a pretty good record. And I learned from my mistakes, from the Doctor, and I tried to teach my daughter that science always leads. She took that lesson to heart, even though it is sometimes difficult for her with a father like me."

"I've seen those records, Brigadier, I mean just considering your years of command at UNIT alone…the Autons? The Silurians? Gargoyles, dinosaurs, that…robot. Shall I go on?"

"Harry, out of all of those examples…the only one that I might regret was the Silurians, if they had not unleashed a plague and threatened to create a nuclear war, but otherwise, if I met them all today again, it would still be five rounds rapid-fire. Sorry, Kate." He muttered.

Barbara coughed. "Gargoyles? Dinosaurs? How…oh, never mind."

The Brigadier turned and glared at Harry. "Loch. Ness. Monster. Don't forget that Duke."

Harry winced. "Those Zygons…it was just one mistake. All right, fine, I'll let you help me with these papers, but you'll soon regret it!"

Barbara sighed. "Come on, enough arguing. Someone tell me about what happened with that incident at Royal Hope Hospital-is it really true that it went to the moon? Was…was the Doctor involved?"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As Tricia Delaney emptied out one of the filters, she turned to her friend Jessica as she queried, "Say, have you ever noticed any 'regular' table?"

Jessica nodded toward a middle-aged woman in the line, with a laptop satchel slung onto her shoulder, and retorted, "Besides the writers?"

Tricia rolled her eyes. "I mean one of the tables in the back, specifically frequented by some elderly group."

"Oh, I know what table you're talking about," Jessica said as the cash tray popped out. "Yes, they've been coming to this coffee shop for a long time, even before I started working here. They buy some of our items every now and then and they usually sit at that same table for a few hours every week or so. However, they don't make much trouble, or demand a lot…that'll be 3 pounds. They don't take up more space than necessary or talk too loud, so we don't mind them."

"But isn't it a little odd that they meet here? I mean, the doctor has told my grandmother that she can't drink coffee, not good for the elderly or something like that. So why do they spend so much time at a coffee shop when there are…libraries, senior citizens' centers, places where they can meet comfortably? I mean, a place as…trendy as this, why should they be so attracted to meet here every week, and what does bring them together?"

"Oh, Tricia, don't be so uptight. It's none of our business, so long as they buy something."

Tricia poured a vat of milk into the dispenser as she sighed, thinking that perhaps Jessica was right, but still…it bugged her, this group's confidentiality, she felt like she was being hoodwinked. Though she tried to tell herself that her suspicions were ridiculous, then she saw that middle-aged woman with the laptop satchel from before, holding a recently purchased cup, walk straight over to the table at the back of the shop.

Tricia frowned, especially as she got another good look at the occupants and recognized that one of them was that old man that had come into the coffee shop, drunk, last week; she would not have forgotten him. So, they didn't make much trouble, did they? She shook her head; she just couldn't stay up here at the front any longer.

"Jessica, I'm heading to the back for more coffee mix!" Tricia called as she swung open the door leading to the back of the shop; her friend just waved as she dealt with the customers.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Meanwhile, Dr. Harry Sullivan opened the briefcase and told Barbara, "Well, originally, we were not able to confirm that the Doctor had been involved. According to eyewitness accounts, Royal Hope Hospital had apparently been transported to the moon by an alien force that called themselves the 'Judoon', who wanted to examine everyone. I mean, not medically or so-ahem, they seemed to be acting like a police group, looking for someone. Although, with the way they described them, I almost couldn't help thinking about Sontarans."

"Sontarans? That sounds like a good name." Barbara, Harry, and the Brigadier turned and greeted Victoria Waterfield Harris, who smiled as she set her cup of espresso near the edge and sat down beside Barbara. The middle-aged woman laid her satchel on the table, careful to avoid knocking over her cup, and removed her laptop before she placed the satchel to the side.

As Victoria pressed the 'on' button, Harry removed several sheaves of paper from his briefcase and continued, "Well, I-I don't know about the name, but these Sontarans were big brutes, much like the Judoon from what I was told, though behind their helmets, the Judoon were more like…big rhinos. So, eyewitnesses had given descriptions of a man similar to what is known to be his current appearance, but we were not entirely certain of credibility, considering how most were suffering from oxygen deprivation, and there had been some sort of malfunction with security cameras. Apparently, they were made non-compatible during the transfer to the moon, or were immobilized by the 'Judoon' upon their arrival. However, just the day after-"

"Let me tell her," the Brigadier eagerly interrupted as he grabbed some of the papers. "Well, the next day, late at night, I was contacted to help supervise a swarm of shocked socialites, my daughter again. I wasn't given a lot of details at first, I just had to report to Lazarus Labs, where there had been some sort of presentation scheduled as I recalled then. As I talked with some of them, there was some confusion, but I managed to get some of the details: Professor Lazarus actually made a machine that reversed his aging, he was 76 and yet it appeared as if he was 30 or so!"

"Did…did it really work?"

"If it had really worked, do you think I would be looking like this?" the Brigadier shook his head. "There had been…some sort of malfunction at first during the experiment, seemingly repaired by a man who, coincidentally, matched the Doctor's known appearance. However, then it all went bad…Professor Lazarus actually changed into a hideous monster, which then proceeded to attack the socialites. Luckily, this other man, accompanied by a young black woman, also then managed to fix things so that the professor at least morphed back into a regular shape. After that, I found it hard to get any more details, there was some trouble up the road near a church and the two people-likely the Doctor and his new companion-had vanished."

Barbara stared at him, but then blinked and grabbed her cup before she took a sip, as she tried to absorb everything she had been told. She lowered the cup and slowly shook her head, saying, "That's…I can barely believe it, even after what I've been through."

Harry slowly nodded. "I know what you mean, it's a bit of a shock. We hold on to our own memories of what we experienced in the past, never imaging that such adventures could continue and change without us, or at least we try to believe that. We go on through our lives, take on other responsibilities and try to assimilate to them, as the wonder starts to fade and we limit ourselves. Yet the inside was bigger than the outside and must have hidden much more than even we could have expected."


	5. Chapter 5: The Intrepid Journalist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah Jane Smith arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally published on FanFiction. Again, these first few chapters were written before and then during series 3 of Doctor Who, but then I took a long hiatus of several years (2007 until...2012?) before I updated the story. The problem was, at the time, I couldn't reconcile the events of series 3 to my storyline, but once I revamped my storyline and launched into the Year That Never Was, starting in chapter 6, then I was back on track and started updating this story more regularly, and changed the format as well. Anyway, this chapter was technically my last 2007 chapter until I returned to fanfiction. (And I hate the fact that I have to go through and re-enter paragraph breaks when copying my FanFiction work onto here. Grr.)

General Sir, formerly Brigadier, Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart shuffled some papers and muttered, "Harry? I'm afraid you were right, I'm starting to regret helping you with this."

The Brigadier pushed the papers, some of which were daily logs from agencies like MI5, Torchwood, and UNIT, aside as he grabbed his cup of coffee and took another deep gulp. Harry shook his head, thinking that the man may be something of a hypocrite when it came to acting impetuously, without advice, later to regret it…and yet he would still keep repeating such behavior. Yes, Harry had reasoned this out, but he would not openly criticize the Brigaider; he was stuck in his own old habit of conforming to authority. For though he might have been brave enough to face Cybermen and Daleks in younger years, he knew that he would have made messed things up without the guidance of such like the Brigadier…and the Doctor.

Instead, Dr. Harry Sullivan asked, "What is the problem?"

"Well, this whole examination is…what's a political word for redundant?"

Victoria, typing on her laptop, glanced up. "Surplus, perhaps?" "I know this seems long-winded," Harry explained,

"Especially when we are looking over previous predicaments and nit-picking them long after the fact. However, this will be the basis for future actions and responses; we must take past experiences into account so that we can figure out how we should react to similar situations for less loss of life. Those that do not know their own history are doomed to repeat it, right, Ms. Chesterton?"

Barbara shrugged. "Please, call me Barbara. In fact, I used to be a teacher and I have seen more of history than most in my profession could ever have had the chance to see. With that in mind, there does come a point where one starts to wonder when people will take the time to learn from their mistakes. As I knew the Doctor, he would have agreed with that, I believe."

The Brigadier, who had been moping slightly, suddenly straightened. "Yes, when you last knew him, back in…was it the 60s? Yet looking over all of these papers just now, and from everything else I've seen or heard about him in recent years, it just makes it more apparent to me how much he has changed since then, not just in appearance alone. These days, it doesn't seem as if he examines his actions, far from it; he just acts! And you criticized me for not using diplomacy!"

Both Barbara and Victoria glanced at each other, grimacing, as Harry sighed. "I may have been harsh with you a few moments ago, I'll admit that, but now what do you mean about the Doctor? What about these papers, what did you read in them?"

"What did I not read in them?" The Brigadier grabbed a stack of the reports, licking his thumb before he started leafing through them. "The return of the Autons, the takeover at Downing Street, that blood-crisis with the aliens, the school shut-down, Canary Wharf, the draining of the Thames, Royal Hope Hospital, Lazarus Labs and so much more! Everything the Doctor gets himself involved in, more and more out in the open, there is just more trouble than ever before and more loss of life, so he doesn't stop to question his actions, he just seems to run and rage against the dangers of the universe falling upon this Earth."

Barbara shuddered as Victoria bit her lip, her fingers arching across her keyboard, but then she paused and slowly shook her head. when I traveled with the Doctor, he may have spent plenty of time working out equations, building contraptions, and examining phenomenon, but he still could fight against and undermine his enemies; he did not always meticulously consider the best course of actions, sometimes he just had to act, no matter what happened."

Barbara slowly nodded and now lectured, "So, though the Brigadier may be right in saying that the Doctor sometimes does not analyze his situation, yet Harry is also right in the occasional necessity to assess a crisis and act with diplomacy, especially if it might spare the loss of life."

The Brigadier and Harry glanced at each other, slightly doubtful, but then they both nodded and reached out to shake hands. Harry stood and headed towards the queue to get another latte while Barbara sighed; there were so many more children in the world than she could have imagined, perhaps herself included.

* * *

Tricia Delaney was lugging another bag of coffee mix out of storage when the phone in the back rang; she groaned and nearly broke her back as she dropped the bag before rushing over to pick up the phone, tiredly answering in the name of the coffee shop. The voice on the other end of the line replied with name, address, and phone number, saying that this was in regard of- Suddenly, Tricia blinked and gasped. "You again!"

"What?" said the voice. "Is this about the old fellow I bumped into earlier today? Look, I'm sorry about-"

"What are you talking about? No, you accidentally called this shop last week after that fiasco with Royal Hope Hospital, yelling about 'the Doctor' or whatever, you were talking about him being an alien!"

"Oh…listen, I was in a bit of a state, but please, you have to help me. My life just hasn't been the same these last few months, so many of my friends, and then…"

"Are you talking about Canary Wharf?"

"Well, not really. Did you lose somebody there?"

"I…I don't know. I had these two friends, or at least I suppose you could call them that, but they disappeared long before Canary Wharf."

"Then you know what I'm talking about, lady. Please believe me when I say that other call was a mistake, I'm really not like that. I am a sensible person, even when it seems like I'm possessed, but I'm just a victim of circumstances."

"I suppose I can believe that. With my job, some of these people just chafe me down to a piece of flint, but that's not me. Anyway, you should really get some help, or at least try to focus on some positive things. You know, people have been talking that with all of the invasions, we should take a firmer stance and that with the election coming soon…they say that Mr. Saxon will correct things."

"Maybe, but I don't know what to believe anymore, not since that Doctor first popped up in my life so many years ago-"

Tricia Delaney, listening to the voice, shook her head and told herself that this was just too ridiculous, to be so sympathetic with a nut job; so she quickly hung up the phone. After a moment, she reached for the keypad, but then shook her head and hefted the bag again, carrying it out. Jessica accepted the bag and then asked what had taken her so long.

"I could have sworn I heard the phone ring," Jessica remarked.

Tricia bit her lip. "Well…it did ring. I have got to tell you something, Jessica, it's a bit bizarre."

* * *

Meanwhile, just outside the shop, Sarah Jane Smith was striding down the sidewalk, her purse slung over her shoulder as she paused to stare at a poster for the VOTE SAXON campaign, featuring the smiling mug of the candidate. The journalist had never liked the look of the man, though she was supposed to remain professional in her evaluation of candidates, so she quickly averted her eyes and continued walking on, passing the window of the coffee shop featuring the trendy coffee cup icon of Cappuccino and swung open the door.

Sarah sighed at the length of the queue, but stepped forward to the back position and waited; the line slowly moved onward as she grunted, then tilted her head to see what was going on at the back table. She spotted the newest member to the group and smiled, for the old woman appeared to be a sensible addition to their small group; she probably had plenty of experiences with the Doctor to share. As Sarah glanced back towards the front of the queue again, she grimaced as she saw none other than Harry stepping out of the line, clutching a tall cup as he turned his head and caught sight of her.

The doctor smiled and waved at her while she waved back, trying to grin even as she worried that he might ask her out on a date again in the middle of this line. However, Harry turned back around and headed towards the table as Sarah sighed in relief, especially now that the line was moving again and she was that much closer to getting her tall cup of cappuccino, maybe with a salad as well. Back at the table, the others glanced up as Harry returned, grinning as he pulled over another chair and placed it at the head of the table before he sat back down besides the Brigadier.

"Sarah Jane Smith, our intrepid journalist, is here!"

Barbara blinked, but then she slowly nodded. "Oh, you said she was K9Handler…now the name is familiar to me. Did she not win some award a few years ago?"

The Brigadier chuckled. "Ah, of course she did, she wins a few of those just about every time she turns in one of her investigative pieces. She's always one for getting to the heart of the matter, a good investigator-oh, that school shut-down I mentioned awhile ago? She was there on the scene and, yes, she actually did see the Doctor again!"

"Really?" Barbara covered her mouth for a moment and then lowered her hand. "Oh, but the way you've all talked about him and how much he's changed since I knew him…I just can imagine how difficult that must be, especially when he does jump around in time and space as much as he does."

"Yes, but nowadays it certainly seems so much easier to catch him; I suppose the 21st century appeals to him," A woman's voice replied as Barbara turned around to meet Sarah Jane Smith.

The journalist said hello to everyone and greeted the newest member, Ms. Barbara Wright Chesterton, before she warily eyed the chair that had already been pulled up for her, but she sat down anyways. She reached around for her purse and pulled out a copy of the latest edition of her paper, featuring her follow-up coverage of the Royal Hope Hospital and the Lazarus Labs incidents. Sarah handed it over to the Brigadier, who nodded as he flipped open the pages and read aloud to the others at the table with his deep voice, though it disturbed other customers.

Once he was finished, he handed the paper back as Sarah remarked, "Of course, I couldn't mention half of the interesting details in the stories, though I did remark on how Harold Saxon, the most likely candidate for PM, has been so opinionated on the matters. With Royal Hope, he just couldn't help stressing how this proved that we needed to take better action against alien threats, and then with the disaster at Lazarus Labs, he actually defended the late professor! Off record, of course, but apparently he believes that the man would have succeeded with his attainment of youth if some 'fiddling' had not made the results so unstable in the first place."

"So Harold Saxon is accusing the Doctor?" Harry frowned. "No, he would not have sabotaged that experiment, especially when it was already so volatile to begin with. I'm not voting for that man."

Sarah shrugged and glanced away from him. "Well, in any case, it appears that the Doctor is having fun with this Martha Jones."

"Martha Jones?" Victoria thumped the spacebar and looked up. "I thought you told us that his new companion was a woman named Rose."

"Oh, yes…" Sarah Jane Smith sighed. "Well, this is as far as I can figure. When I met the Doctor again at that school about a year ago, he was then traveling with a blonde young woman named Rose, Rose Tyler. I later found her name amongst the list of the dead in the Canary Wharf Battle…"

There was a moment of silence from everyone as Barbara's eyes widened, but then Sarah continued, "However, when I was interviewing some of the medical students last week that had been transported to the moon with Royal Hope, one of them said that she had seen her friend, Martha Jones, running around with a patient, a Mr. Smith, who had been admitted to the hospital hours before the Judoon hijacked it to the moon. I tried to locate this Martha amongst the crowd at that point, but perhaps she had already left by then. Then two days later-"

"Yes, yes, Lazarus Labs," Victoria muttered as she went back to her typing. "The Brig already told us about that, but we had not known the name of Martha Jones."

"Oh…" Sarah frowned, but then she shook her head. "I have more to tell. You see, I found out that a Tish Jones had been employed by Professor Lazarus and that there were search bulletins being sent out then for her sister, Martha! I tried to interview the family, but Saxon's men were covering them."

The Brigadier cocked his head. "Whatever is that fellow doing? He's not even PM yet, and he's already got so much under wraps!"

Sarah nodded and smiled. "Exactly! I've been worrying about my hunch against him, but if you all say that something wrong is going on, then I'll go with that. Perhaps I should have investigated him sooner; I bet the Doctor would have criticized me for being too hesitant. Well, let's raise our cups to the Doctor, wherever he might be, and wish him luck after all of his misfortune with Rose and Gallifrey."

Sarah, Harry, the Brigadier and Barbara lifted their coffee cups as Victoria raised her hand. "I suggest another toast for his new companion, and let us hope she can take care of herself, traveling with the Doctor, for her family's sake at least."

They raised their cups again as Barbara queried, "What…what is Gallifrey?"

The others cleared their throats as Sarah glanced around at everyone. "I thought you lot would have told…oh, all right. Well, when I met the Doctor, though he might have seemed much younger than he used to be, he was much sadder because…his planet, Gallifrey, had been destroyed."

Barbara lowered her head and shuddered; when she had traveled on the TARDIS, the Doctor and Susan had said nothing much about their home planet, Gallifrey, just mentioning that they had been banished. Yet she could just imagine how devastated he must be, to have lost so much over the years, his granddaughter, his planet, his companion Rose…; just as devastated, if not more so, than when she had lost Ian. Sarah sighed and then there was silence for a moment; Victoria then returned to typing as the Brigadier shuffled some more papers, which Harry grabbed as he perused them once more.

The journalist turned to the former school teacher and told her how she had met the Doctor, then about the adventures she had with him and then his Fourth, mentioning the involvement of Harry and the Brigadier. However, as Sarah Jane Smith turned to them, her eyes caught sight of the reports scattered across the table and she snatched at them as the doctor protested, but she didn't hear him as her eyes narrowed while she read the reports. Barbara hesitated, wondering what was about to happen, as Victoria observed the proceedings with an exasperated sigh.

Sarah turned on her. "What was that about?"

Victoria shook her head. "Sarah, must you always be so hard on those two fellows? I'm trying to compose a new story, but that will be difficult for me if you should start yelling at them."

The Brigadier firmly nodded. "That's right, and I don't see why you should have to criticize us about our work. After all, it's important business and necessary to the defense of our country."

Sarah glared at him. "Brig, is this my good friend Alistair talking or is this the General Sir preaching his message?"

The Brigadier rolled his eyes and responded, "This is Alistair speaking, Sarah Jane, plain enough."

"Listen to him, please." Victoria implored. "They weren't doing much anyway, just shuffling papers, but you just keep pressing them because of its espionage nature. We should be able to relax here, have a nice cup of coffee and chat. Besides, you must be able to see that sometimes their duties are needed, especially with all of the incidents you've witnessed and reported about; you know as well as I do that not all threats to this planet can be settled without force. You know, Daleks and Cybermen?"

Sarah Jane Smith, intrepid journalist, shuddered and then said nothing more as she sulked slightly in her chair, sipping her cappuccino even as she started feeling restless. The rest of the group settled down for now, sipping their drinks as Victoria typed, before Barbara stood and headed to the counter to get another cup.

Sarah sighed, annoyed at herself for getting so worked up, especially when her aggression had been so thwarted by such a true remark; sometimes force was needed, yes, but she wished that it wasn't always so, especially when it could cause so much damage. Yet next time, she would not allow herself to criticize the problems about force, or at least not in the presence of the Brigadier; she would pick her own battles elsewhere and move on like the Doctor did, to keep fighting and surviving, so that she wouldn't stagnate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh...again, written in 2007 before Elizabeth Sladen died.


	6. Chapter 6: Fugitives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Year That Never Was segment begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I originally wrote on FanFiction.net: 'It's been awhile. A long while. I'm afraid I never got back to this because I had some difficulties. I knew where I wanted my part of the story to lead, but then there were complications in the 3rd series-a lot of complications with Harold Saxon. I decided to incorporate them into this story as best I could now. Time is a bit off-I know it's just after three days Royal Hope Hospital vanishes that Harold is elected Prime Minister, but here it's more like close to two weeks. And the thing about the Doctor, Jack, and Martha going on the run-well, time is off. Did my best. Afraid this is the start of a tangent that will go from here-Year That Never Was.'  
> (P.S. I figured out my copy/paste problem--the line breaks on FanFiction messed things up! So here I go, getting it straight.)

Barbara Chesterton went back home on the train at the end of her second meeting with the group, glad that she had gone all of this way. Even though it was sometimes difficult for her to get out of the bed in the morning, with the loss of Ian and the physical pain she felt growing old, still she was determined now with a new sense of direction, that of finding out as much as she could about the Doctor, about how he had changed in the years since she and Ian had first met him and his granddaughter. He had changed, she could tell, and there was more about him than she had ever thought possible, he had done more things than she could ever dream of, but still he was the same man in his hearts (two of them, according to the others), and he was a tie to her past when she had first fallen in love with Ian, traveling through time and space. He was a hero, just like Ian was.

Sometimes she wondered if he had forgotten all about her and Ian, what with all of the people he might have known and how he had lived, but she thought that there had to be something.

Barbara got home, and coped as best she could until the next meeting of the group. In the excitement, however, she forgot to go to a polling booth, and the election of the prime minister went on without her. She woke up on the day just before her third meeting to learn that Harold Saxon had been elected prime minister of Great Britain. She sighed to herself, remembering what Sarah Jane Smith had said about his suspicious opinions on Lazarus Labs and what the Doctor had done there. Perhaps she should have voted, but what good would one vote have done? Saxon had won by a landslide, it was almost impossible that he could have gotten such figures! Mind you, he was a charming figure himself, almost reminded her of—oh, stop it, she couldn't be attracted to him, the man had to be half her age at least!

Barbara Chesteron rode the train back to London, slightly depressed, and went to the coffee shop on the corner once more. She ordered from the cashier with the yellow highlights, talking to her friend about a strange phone call, and then carried her food and drink to the back table. Sarah Jane Smith was there, beeping on her phone.

"What are you doing? Texting?" Barbara asked.

Sarah Jane nodded. "I'm sending a message to my son, Luke, I want him to check up on Harold Saxon. It's worse than I thought."

"What do you mean?" Barbara asked.

Sarah Jane looked up. "Oh, you don't know." She sighed and looked around, then turned her cell-phone to Barbara. "It's one of those Internet-connected phones, you can watch videos on them," She said, touching the screen.

"I've seen one of them before, my son has one." Barbara said, then glanced at Sarah Jane. "You have a son?"

"He's very young." Sarah Jane smiled, "Though he seems much older. This is it," She said, and played a video of a news report from last night—of three criminals wanted by the law.

"I don't understand-"

"That's the Doctor," Sarah Jane Smith said, pointing at the scraggly haired fellow.

Barbara inhaled sharply. "Oh my..." She said, staring at the two others. "His companions?"

Sarah Jane nodded. "That's Martha Jones, and that, I believe, is a fellow called Captain Jack Harkness—he works for Torchwood in Cardiff, and has been around for a long while." Sarah Jane closed her phone. "I'm afraid Harold Saxon has a hand in this. It reminds of another I've heard about..." Sarah Jane sighed.

"I'm afraid this meeting will be canceled. The Brigadier is trying to negotiate with Saxon's representatives, and Harry is doing research, just like me. Ben and Polly are probably going to be busy as well, and I think the best thing for us might be to lay low for awhile."

"Lay low?" Barbara gasped. "How can-"

"I have to think about it." Sarah Jane Smith said. "We are a small group, and not very powerful compared to the prime minister. He has taken control, and we have to lay low for awhile; try to resist him as best we can, but still—there is no guarantee that this will work out." She sighed. "I'm worried, I'm very worried, and I'm afraid you shouldn't be here right now. You might get into danger, being associated with us."

Barbara sighed, and stood up, muttering to herself as she moved to another table. She had every right to do what she wanted to do, but she was worried as well. She had never thought—the Doctor, a fugitive from British government? From what she had heard, they all owed their lives to the Doctor. What could have changed opinions so quickly?

Barbara finished her drink, and decided she wanted another one; Sarah had already left, apparently receiving word of the most urgent manner. Barbara got up, and was heading to the counter when she bumped into someone. "Oh, pardon me," She said, to—thin air? There was the funny feeling that she had seen...she shook her head, and continued around, not even paying attention to what she was doing. Clumsy.

* * *

Captain Jack Harkness stumbled out of the coffee shop, loaded with bags of food, one of which he handed to Martha Jones. The Doctor followed afterwards, slowly as he stared off into the distance, all of them wearing their Chameleon Circuit necklaces that disguised them to unseeing eyes. Captain Jack and Martha glanced at each other, worried-he had been acting strange ever since the Master revealed himself, first as Professor Yana and now as Harold Saxon-what was worse for Martha, though, was all the trouble the Master had caused them.

"Doctor, what is the matter with you?" Jack asked. "You stopped, in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, staring at an old woman—not that she looked bad, mind you, for being close to 80-"

"I recognized her." The Doctor said.

Captain Jack and Martha stopped, staring at him. "What?" Martha Jones asked.

"Her name was Barbara, and she traveled with me, back in the 60s..." The Doctor said slowly. He looked up at the coffee shop sign. "What was she doing here?" He asked.

"We've got no time for that right now," Captain Jack said, coming up to him. "Come on, we've got to go," He said, pulling the Doctor along.

The Doctor glanced back, and Martha wondered if Barbara was another Rose in his past-he must have left a lot of broken hearts behind over the years.

* * *

Barbara went back home, crying the whole way as she worried that this was the end—the end of her little group, just as she had gotten settled into it all. All of the fabulous people, the wonderful mysteries...the Doctor was further away from her now than he had ever been before. She missed Ian.

She got home, and went to bed—waking up the next morning to find that everything had changed. She turned on the morning news, just in time to watch Harold Saxon make an announcement on the Valiant—something about aliens, Tolcafane—President Winters was there as well. Then the Tolcafane came, and—destroyed President Winters. Barbara gasped, spilling her coffee, as she stared at the prime minister smiling.

Then the window smashed—she turned around, and stared at one of those Tolcafane, right now, hovering in the middle of her living room with—all of those blades.

"Oh my god," She said, covering her eyes—"Ian!" She cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, what I originally wrote on Fanfiction: 'Sorry. So Sorry. I had to, because of what the Tolcafane did. And that's not the end of it, I'm afraid. Coming Up: The Year That Never Was, Companion Coffee Shop version. Again, Sorry.'


	7. The Year That Never Was with the Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin--Last of the Time Lords with the Companion Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the copy/paste is messing up again! Grr. Redoing paragraph breaks is a pain. And I think I figured out how to work this thing again...

Admiral Benjamin Jackson, who once was retired until he was reinstated into service after what had happened with the Tolcafane wiping out so many commanders, stood out in the rain waiting for his car to arrive that morning. The Valiant was coming back to Britain after a year away, and what a year it was, a terrible one.

"How are you doing, Polly?" Benjamin asked his wife a few minutes ago after getting dressed in uniform.

"Stiff, slightly." Polly sniffed, reaching out for her makeup brush to put a little blush on. "I had to parade around last night at one of those society parties. They still go on, even after the world has fallen apart." She paused a moment. "I had to listen to them talk-or whisper, at least, from afar about me. They don't look at me anymore, not really. Not after I've been seen with...you know." She said, looking down.

"What are you doing today?" Ben asked, staring at her.

"I've got a meeting with a survivors' group, a charity fundraiser, and then there's another society how-do-you-do followed by a ball, I hate those." Polly said. "They want us to dance, and be happy, but there's nobody worth a darn to dance with, and it hurts, Ben, it really hurts."

"Hang in there, Polly, it'll be over before you know it." He said, coming over to hug her.

"I can't keep up, Ben, I'm getting too old for this." Polly said. "I think they want to kill us like this, slow and steady, it's harder than what happened with-" She cried.

Ben stepped forward as he saw the car arrive, and then he stopped as he saw who was driving the car. "Harry?" He asked.

Dr. Sullivan turned his head around. "Hello, Ben."

"What are you doing-" Benjamin shook his head. "You can't be-"

"I am, Ben. I am one of the finest naval medical doctors left, after what happened, and-I know the Doctor." He said, sort of in disgust.

Ben stopped. "The Doctor—is he-"

"He's alive, Ben. The Master's keeping him that way, which is why I'm here." Dr. Sullivan said, turning around. "The Doctor's in poor condition. Apparently the Master's weakened him, aged him beyond the norm for a Time Lord. I know the Time Lord anatomy, just a little bit, and-well, the Master just likes the look on the Doctor's face when I have to treat him. He probably beats the Doctor, and makes him sick, just so he can call upon me." Harry Sullivan said, turning away. "You'll be piloting the ship, am I right?"

"That's right, I'm-piloting the ship..." Ben said, stopping a moment. "Oh, god, the Doctor's going to see me."

"Get into the car, Ben." Harry said.

"Harry, why can't we-"

"Get in, now, Tolcafane is coming along."

"Oh, right," Ben said, getting in as one of the Tolcafane arrived. They showed their IDs, and were escorted to the air base. They didn't have a chance to talk on the long drive.

"Have you heard from anybody, Ben?" Harry whispered as they walked towards the helicopter that would take them up to the Valiant.

"Barbara is dead." Ben said, shaking his head. "Victoria-went insane. She is hiding somewhere. The rest...I haven't got a clue." He said as the Valiant appeared in the distance.

* * *

A lantern waved, the rowboat coming ashore. Martha Jones got out, and walked up to—"Hello, my name is Sarah Jane Smith, nice to meet you." The older woman said, nodding and shaking her hand. "That's Tom Milligan over there, with the lantern. Nice boy," She remarked, leading Martha up the beach.

Martha Jones was slightly startled by the warm greeting, considering the situation they were in, but she smiled at Tom and Sarah's warmth. "I suppose you know who I am?" She asked, following the older woman.

"The famous Martha Jones-Smith and Jones, eh?" Sarah said, with a slight laugh.

"Smith and Jones. You sound like...a friend I once had." Martha said, looking down.

"The Doctor?" Sarah asked.

"You know-" Martha gasped.

"I once traveled with him, for a couple of years." Sarah said. "I left him in the end."

"Why did you?" Martha asked.

"I just couldn't stand the pain anymore." Sarah said. "Tom, are you with us?" She asked, turning around to look at the young man following them.

"I'm supposed to go to a Professor Docherty-" Martha started to say.

"That can wait. I want you to meet a friend of mine, who will be glad to see you." Sarah said, turning around. "We have some business to discuss."

The Brigadier shook Martha Jones' hand, and said, "Welcome aboard, Martha Jones, we need every soldier we can use."

"I'm not a soldier." Martha Jones said, removing her hand from the Brigadier's. "I've hardly ever shot a gun."

"True. We were driving here when the Tolcafane stopped us, but they never noticed Martha." Sarah Jane Smith said. "She has a special TARDIS key, one that has been modified to hide her from everyone except those who want to see her."

The Brigadier nodded. "Interesting. So that is how you managed to survive so long. I suppose that would be useful for sneaking about, but we intend to go much further than that. We intend to stop the Master." He said.

"The Doctor has a plan." Martha Jones said. "It's going to work out."

"I suppose he does, but he hasn't implemented it yet, and it's been a year. We've been waiting, Martha Jones, quite patiently, but we couldn't wait any longer. We need to act, we need to do something, before the Master wipes out this whole planet and maybe the universe. I've fought the Master before, and I've bested him. Of course, in those days, his plans were less elaborate, less destructive, but I've had my successes. The Master remains the same, even when his face changes, just like the Doctor."

Martha Jones stared at the Brigadier, and shook her head. "I don't know quite what you're talking about, but things change. The Master is worse than you might expect. I'm sorry, but I can't help you. I've got my own part to play, and I've got to go fulfill my duty, before it's too late. I'm sorry." She said.

The Brigadier sighed, and shook his head. "A soldier through and through. We could have used you at UNIT, you would have been a fine addition to our team. Well, go, Martha Jones, and fulfill your duty to the Doctor." He saluted her.

She saluted back. "You can fulfill your duty to him by spreading the word about the Doctor." She said. "Tell everyone you know about him, tell them about the wonderful things that he's done. He did do good things, didn't he, in your time?"

The Brigadier nodded. "He did indeed. Thank you for gracing us with your presence."

Martha Jones nodded, and left the office with Sarah Jane Smith. "Take the truck and Tom, see Professor Docherty." Sarah said. "I'm staying here to take care of some business."

"Thank you for bringing me here. Sorry I couldn't help." Martha Jones said.

"It's all right. If you see the Doctor, tell him-tell him we said hello, the Brig and I." Sarah Jane Smith smiled. "If he still remembers us." She remarked.

"You'll see him again." Martha Jones insisted.

"Afraid not." Sarah said, shaking her head. "When he leaves you, he's gone, for good, and he's not coming back." She said. "He might meet you by accident, but no more than that." She sighed. "I was surprised when I last saw him, and then I got to tell him goodbye. I want to see him again, one last time, but it's not going to happen. Even if things turn out well, like you say, I'm afraid we won't be there." Sarah Jane Smith said.

Martha Jones left with Tom, driving the truck, and mused to herself as the secret base disappeared behind them.

* * *

"Welcome, welcome aboard, my friends," The Master cried as he came out to greet them. "Admiral Benjamin Jackson, a pleasure to see you again." He said, smiling. "How is your wife?"

"She's fine, thank you." Ben said.

"She's a fine looking woman, for an old human." He laughed before turning around to face- "Dr. Harry Sullivan, nice to see you again as well. He's acting up again. I'm afraid he needs some more medicine to calm him down."

"I'll try my best." Harry said.

"Not too much, I'm afraid he will go to sleep before too long." The Master grinned wickedly. "You will have to adjust the dosage as well, because—he's shrunk a bit." The Master giggled. "You'll see, I've got him on display in my conference room. Follow me, please, both of you." He cried.

They had no choice but to follow, and stared in shock at the shrunken Time Lord in the birdcage, staring forlornly up at them. Ben felt like he might vomit.

"I-I don't know if I can-" Harry tried to say.

"Of course you can, it's not so hard! Just adjust the dose, maybe by about 70 percent—children's dose, baby's dose." The Master chuckled and laughed. "Come follow me, Ben, up here!" The Master cried, climbing the stairs. "This is your bridge, oh captain, my captain, where you will pilot the Valiant into the stars!" He cried.

"Yes, Master," Ben grimaced as he said it, turning his back on the Doctor so as not to look at him, and went up the steps. Ben piloted the Valiant, which really didn't need anybody at the helm unless it was an emergency, because so much of the vessel was automated, and listened to the Master taunt the Doctor off-and-on.

The Doctor didn't really defend himself, it seemed to Ben, who tried to keep quiet and concentrate as best he could on what he had to do. Dr. Sullivan treated the Doctor as best he could, and then was forced to leave to treat a Captain Jack Harkness. The Doctor fell asleep soon after the Master left for the evening, and Ben dimmed the lights.

Ben had a 6-hour shift, and then just as he was about to retire for 8 hours, before he was called back to serve, the Master slipped into the boardroom, and woke the Doctor with some exciting news about Martha Jones.

Ben paused a moment to listen in, and the Master glanced towards him as he remarked, "Earlier this afternoon, I forgot to mention this while we were busy with that rebellious fiasco, my agents had discovered the secret base of the rebel alliance run by our dear old friend Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart—who won't be bothering us anymore."

Ben stopped and stared at the Master, who was just daring him to attack as the Doctor watched on helplessly. Ben ran off, the howls of the Master's laughter dogging him as he felt like crying.

He retired to his bedroom, barely more than a cell, and wept silently. He didn't sleep at all and then morning came. A knock on the door. "You have been called back onto deck for a special presentation." The voice said.

Ben got up and left his cell, escorted by the soldier who took him back to the bridge.

Dr. Harry Sullivan was up on the bridge as well, staring down from the railing, looking exhausted. The Master stood aside, allowing Ben to climb the stairs.

"We need smooth sailing this morning, captain, we've got a prisoner to execute." The Master said, as more people were marched in for the presentation.

Ben was glad his back was to everyone, as he didn't want to see what happened when Martha Jones was marched in, but he could still hear.

"Sarah Jane Smith and the Brig say hello," Martha Jones whispered softly, loud enough for the Doctor to hear. She didn't understand why he looked away.

The universe was going to burn today-the Tolcafane would be sent out—Ben closed his eyes, piloting the course of the vessel that would unleash this fury. He really would see the stars again, dying before him. He wanted to crash the ship, but it would not let him.

"The child Martha Jones will die today..." The Master said, and then it turned upside down-Martha Jones was laughing. Ben paused and turned around, wondering if she had gone mad with the threat of her death in the air.

There was something going on here...and it reversed.

The Doctor, Martha Jones had told a simple story about the Doctor, and it changed things. The Doctor—the Doctor was coming back, Ben and Harry laughed as they watched this strange spectacle, never had they imagined the Doctor could do a thing like this, and the horror of it all was wiped away for a moment.

Captain Jack Harkness and some soldiers ran off to destroy the Paradox Machine, which would destroy the Tolcafane. Ben went back to the controls, to keep the ship steady as the Doctor and the Master disappeared for a bit. The Tolcafane started arriving—

"Shoot them down!" Harry cried, running up to the controls.

"I don't think I have weapons up here!" Ben cried, as they fumbled around a bit looking for weapons, with the others surrounding them. "I don't think this bridge is meant to really do anything." He said.

"What about that?" Martha Jones pointed at a button.

"Thanks, that helped!" Ben remarked, as the energy weapon was fired up and shot down a squadron of the Tolcafane bearing down.

"You're welcome!" She said as they continued shooting.

Then things started getting really hairy. Apparently, the soldiers had destroyed the Paradox machine—Ben tried to get back to the controls, but he fell over, all he could do was get down. Time was changing, apparently. A year and a day-back where they were before the nightmare started.

Ben and Harry stood there, slightly stunned, as they heard the Doctor explain the situation. The Master tried to run, but he was stopped, literally—shot down by his own wife.

"She was crazy." Ben muttered to Harry, who nodded.

"Regenerate!" The Doctor cried—heartbroken at the Master's death? Why would he be, after everything the other Time Lord had done?

"That's it, I want off this ship." Ben said.

"Me too," Harry sighed, "Me too."


	8. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Year That Never Was/2007 series segment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the end of Part One of my fanfiction, and the next chapter starts the revamp of my fanfiction with multiple Doctors and multiple companions! Fun was had by all, and you get the chance to check it out.

After he had recovered, his crying quieted, the Doctor took the Master's body up into his arms and told everyone else to stay behind as he carried the Master off towards his TARDIS. Admiral Benjamin Jackson felt like he should stop the Doctor from leaving as he had just received a hail from below to prepare for boarding from UNIT troops. He knew that the Doctor should have to be questioned eventually about his involvement in this affair, and in many other affairs in the past, but he knew that the Doctor did not like getting involved any more than was necessary. But the Doctor deserved to be questioned and possibly punished, Ben thought, as he had not done anything, or hardly anything, to stop the Master. But then he had reversed time, somehow, so that the Master had not gotten away with killing almost a billion people, but then he had, yet he had not, so...Ben was still confused about all of this. So he let the Doctor go, knowing that he might not see him again.

Harry shook his head, glancing around at everyone who seemed confused and upset, especially Lucy Saxon, crouched on the ground in handcuffs with UNIT officers guarding her. Martha Jones was hugging her family tearfully, telling them everything was going to be all right, and trying to explain what she had to do.

"Dr. Harry Sullivan? Captain Jack Harkness," Jack grimly grinned, holding out his hand for the doctor to shake, before continuing, "I'm afraid we were not properly introduced. I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this."

"Quite all right, I suppose, I have-" Harry inhaled. "I have had some experience with unpleasantness, not like this, though. I traveled with the Doctor once before."

Captain Jack blinked. "The Doctor? Is that...that's why you were brought on board to treat us," Jack said, slowly nodding. "The Master was trying to torture the Doctor by exposing his friends to such—indignity." He said.

"That's right." Harry said, slowly nodded. "Ben up there—Admiral Benjamin Jackson—he traveled with the Doctor as well, before I did I think. When he met the Doctor, he was a balding white-haired old man in a frock coat, like a Victorian gentleman, who was sort of wizened and 'hm'mm'ing a lot. He reminded him of a wizard. He transformed or regenerated into a black-haired slightly younger, shorter, sheepish man in suspenders and a short coat. Said a lot, and sort of acted like a child. This was in the 60s." Harry told Jack, who was staring at Harry in astonishment.

"My Doctor sort of looked like a hippie. It was the 70s," Harry said as Jack started to laugh. "He had frizzy brown hair like an afro, wide eyes with a toothy grin, and he was very tall. He wore a long, woolen multi-colored scarf—said it was sewn by Madame Nostradamus-and a long brown coat with pants." He said, as Jack was bent over with laughter.

"Before that, when he was stranded on Earth and was working with UNIT full time, he had white hair, but a full head of white hair with curls. He acted very gallant, and wore a red coat and pants—he karate-chopped a lot of people, rode around in cars, a boat, and a helicopter. He sort of was like James Bond." Harry said, as Jack asked him to stop making him laugh. "And the Master was around a lot then, although I never met him, and apparently he never did anything this bad." Harry said, as Jack sobered up a bit. "Although he came pretty close a few times."

"Oh my goodness," Jack said, shaking his head. "How do you know all of this?" He asked.

"I was with a group of Doctor survivors." Harry said grimly, smiling. "Former travelers of the universe who left the Doctor and settled down on Earth after awhile. We met practically every Wednesday at a coffee shop in Central London. I heard some of this from people like Polly, Ben's wife, a writer named Victoria, the Brigadier or General Sir Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart from UNIT, a journalist named Sarah Jane Smith, and an old woman named Barbara Chesterton."

"Barbara?" Jack said, as he vaguely remembered the Doctor mentioning that he had bumped into a woman named Barbara at a coffee shop they had entered during their fugitive state. "Can you give me the address of this coffee shop?" Jack asked. "I may be one of your number pretty soon," He remarked.

Harry gave Jack the address, and then Martha Jones joined them, as it seemed she had been listening to part of their conversation. "By the way, I met Sarah Jane Smith and the Brigadier you mentioned," Martha said as she examined the address Harry gave her. "They helped me out, or tried to anyway. What's the matter? Why are you-what happened?" She asked, staring up at Harry, who was starting to cry.

"They got blown up, or so the Master said." Harry said, wiping away his tears. "It was because they were rebels, or-I traveled with Sarah Jane when I was with the Doctor. She was a good friend of mine, and so was the Brigadier, for many years before I joined up with this group." He said.

"They will be all right." Jack said, patting Harry on the back. "That's gone. It never happened. It will be all right."

"How do you know?" They heard a voice say, and turned around to watch Ben coming down the stairs. "All of this pain and misery we've suffered, witnessed, and we're supposed to pretend it's all right?" Ben asked, staring up at Jack.

"How do you know? UNIT's coming, they will have some pretty tough questions for us, about what happened to President Winters and Saxon—the Master—and what will we say?" Ben asked, turning away. "The Master's gone. So is the Doctor, and will the Doctor come back and—be accountable for once!" Ben cried, turning to Jack.

"Will it end? Will it never end? The nightmares?" Ben asked. "We're supposed to go back to our regular, normal lives, pretend it never happened, see the faces of friends we thought were dead—were dead—like it never happened!" He cried.

Martha Jones stared down at the floor, as Jack stared at Ben. "I don't know." Jack said.

The door opened at the other end of the conference hall—they turned their heads, expecting it to be UNIT officers come to arrest and interrogate them, but instead it was the Doctor. He looked around at all of the hurt, angry, and lost people staring back at him before he sighed. "I'm sorry." He said. "Let's get this over with." He said.

* * *

About a week later, Harry and Ben went back to their regular routines, their friends buzzing with the news of Harold Saxon being the Master. Sarah Jane Smith questioned Harry and Ben about their experiences with the Master, wondering why and how they had wound up on the Valiant when the two fellows seemed to be hiding something from her. They had both been at different places before the broadcast, the Brigadier out with Harry at a pub and Ben eating breakfast with Polly, and then they had both disappeared from where they were to wind up on the Valiant.

But the Brigadier was trying to calm her down, insisting the boys should be left alone, which started an argument between him and Sarah Jane. Polly tried to look after her husband, who was upset and angry over something in particular he was not telling her about, and Victoria stared wide-eyed at the sulking Harry as she sipped her coffee, thinking he seemed a little bit mysterious.

Barbara shook her head, and turned to the door, watching people go by outside on the street, when the door opened, and a young black woman entered the shop, followed by a brown-haired man in an old fashioned pilot's jacket. They seemed familiar to her.

She looked up as they approached the table, with Harry and Ben also perking up as well behind her. "Captain Jack Harkness," The man introduced himself, "And this is Miss Martha Jones, soon to be Dr. Martha Jones." He remarked.

The young woman smiled and shook hands with everyone, two chairs were fetched, and the coffee shop group expanded—Martha Jones listening attentively to the Brigadier's description of his career with UNIT and Jack marveling at the news that Harry, Sarah Jane, and the Doctor had been present on Skaro at the time of the Daleks' creation. "So did he blow up the incubator room?" Jack asked as Harry and Sarah Jane told him the story.

"Not exactly," Sarah said, and explained the circumstances.

"So just how old is the Doctor?" Jack asked, curious. "And how many incarnations of him are there?'

Everyone at the coffee shop table stared at each other, and then started arguing it out, tracing out the Doctor's age and his various incarnations through their experiences, and the hearsay of others, on a paper placemat.

"I met the Doctor when he was a blond-haired young man, dressed in cricketer clothes with a piece of celery stuck on his lapel." The Brigadier said, writing it down on the placemat with his pen. "This was sometime after both Sarah Jane and Harry left him, so we'll call him Number Five, as he seems to be ahead of Number Four. It was in both 1983 and 1977. He was traveling with two young women, an alien by the name of Nyssa from Traken, and an Australian named Tegan Jovanka-"

"Tegan!" Barbara cried, and everyone turned to stare at her.

"You know Tegan?" The Brigadier asked, stunned.

"She is—she was—my ex daughter-in-law." Barbara said, nodding. "She married my son John, who called himself Johnny Chess when he was a rocker in the 80s, and then divorced him about 10 years ago."

Everyone marveled at that, though Barbara secretly felt her stomach twist into knots. Tegan had traveled with the Doctor? Why should the Doctor have picked her up and taken her with him? And why should her son have ever met Tegan, and married her in the first place? Tegan was not a bad person, as such, she just rubbed Barbara the wrong way. Why did she get the chance to travel with the Doctor?

* * *

Tricia Delaney shook her head. "The group has expanded." She told her friend Jessica, pointing as she counted the money in the cash register.

Jessica looked up from where she was filling up drinks. "What are those two doing with the elderly group? They're not old. Matter of fact, that man is-"

"Jessica, something weird is going on over there!" Tricia exclaimed, frowning. "And they're taking up too much space. That's it, next time, I'm asking them to leave the shop." She said firmly.

"Leave the shop? Are you sure you should be doing this?" Jessica asked, turning her head around. "They're customers. At least they do pay for coffee, drinks, and food every now and then. Why should we bother about them?"

"I'm not having this place turn into some hang-out for old people or-" Tricia sighed. "Jessica, they're not going to leave this place ever, they're not going to stop coming here, until we stop them. We have to keep this place open and flowing for everyone. If they expand even more, they'll take up three or four tables—this place is not big enough for them. It's time to kick them out before they cause any trouble."

Jessica slowly nodded. "I suppose you're right," as she filled up another cup. The phone rang. "Can you get it, Tricia?"

"Fine," Tricia said, going around to answer. "Hello?"

"Hello again," said the familiar voice. "Look, I called to say I'm sorry for bothering you all. I'm a nice person, it sounds like you're a nice person too, and I just—I just need someone to talk to, sometimes, about my problems. I wish I could talk to someone who would understand-"

"Look, talk to a psychologist, this Doctor person you keep babbling on about," Tricia said, shaking her head.

"I can't do that!" The other person cried. "I can't do that. The last time I tried, I—I got into this mess, and all of the people—I can't do that." He was crying.

"Calm down. Go see a professional. And stop calling me." Tricia said, hanging up angrily. She didn't know what was bothering this man, but she was fed up, and she didn't want to hear from him again. She turned around, and marched off.


	9. Part 2: Time Convergence Chapter 9: Barbara Allen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara meets 10!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said before, I revamped my fanfiction with this Part 2 of multiple Doctors meeting multiple companions, past, present, and future as they all deal with a calamity.

"Hello, Johnny." Barbara said, calling her son about a week later.

"Yes, mum, what is it?" He asked.

"How's your tour going?"

"Japan is a blast, hanging out in Tokyo was fun." Johnny said, so faraway from home. "We're going to the United States tomorrow, California. Then we're going to be touring the States for a little while before coming back home. How are you? How's your group?"

"I'm fine, Johnny, the group's fine. We're having fun." Barbara said, trying to sound cheerful. "Listen, Johnny, I've had a thought or two and I would like to try calling Tegan for you. Can you tell me what's her mobile phone number, or her home phone number?"

"Really? That doesn't sound like you." John said, suspicious.

"I've had a change of heart." Barbara said, annoyed at her son and wishing she didn't have to do this. "And I really would like to talk to her for you, maybe get her to stop pestering you. Can you please give me her number? And possibly where she's staying, if I feel like writing her a letter or something?"

"Well, I don't have her number with me," Johnny said. "You see, it's been so long since we've spoken to one another properly, and she calls me, I don't call her. We don't have proper conversations then, just yelling. I think she's changed her number so many times already that if I did find her number-"

"Never mind." Barbara sighed. "Forget it. Johnny, one more thing...do you remember how I used to tell you about the Doctor?"

"The Doctor? That old fairy-tale?" Johnny scoffed. "It's been so long now I can barely remember what you used to tell me. The stories were pretty wild, I remember that much."

"Did you ever talk to Tegan about it?" Barbara asked.

"Tegan? Well..." Johnny paused. "Actually, I think I did mention him to her once or twice, when we started dating. Yeah, I remember, she was curious about him. She liked the stories about him, the ones I could remember. Of course, I might have fudged up a few details, but yeah, I got some of them right. The...what was the one with the Aztec priestess?"

"Yetaxa." Barbara said.

"Yeah, that was the one. And Dad being knighted by Richard the Lion-Hearted, that one was funny."

Barbara smiled. "At least you remembered some of it."

"Was this what you wanted to talk to Tegan about?" He asked suddenly.

"No, not exactly," She said, clearing her throat as she looked up at the clock. She should have known Johnny would guess. "Listen, Johnny, I've got to go. Love you lots." She said.

"Yeah, love you, too, mum. Ta-ta." Johnny said.

"Ta-ta." Barbara said as he hung up the phone. She sighed and got up, gathering her purse and a light jacket, before leaving the house to take the train into London

The train was crowded as usually, and Barbara had to stand, her hand reaching up to grasp the rubber grip as tight as she could with the train speeding along. She swayed with the motion of train, thinking about Johnny talking to Tegan so many years ago about the Doctor, how young they must have been. Johnny in the prime of his career, with a fortune in his hand and without a care in the world, and Tegan?

Tegan must have been young and carefree once, but Barbara always remembered Tegan being tense about something, and then she had a nervous breakdown or something. Barbara couldn't remember exactly what happened, but Tegan was always talking about the Mara or something. And then Tegan had to visit the court-appointed therapist before Johnny could divorce her. It was a horrible event, quite shocking really, but Barbara had also hoped something like this might happen for Johnny to divorce Tegan.

Did this make her a bad mother, that she wanted her son to be happy with the right person for him? Tegan never seemed to be the right person to her. Perhaps she was too hard on the other woman, if something traumatic had happened to her while traveling with the Doctor. The Daleks had been frightening enough.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Pardon me, miss, but this seat happens to be available."

Barbara, startled, turned around and looked up into the clean-shaven face of a tall young man in his 30s with tousled brown hair and glasses in a blue suit. For some reason, his face seemed familiar to her. She glanced over to where he had indicated, and realized that there was a free seat-she must not have seen it when she boarded, or someone had vacated it. "Thank you, young man," She told him, sitting down.

"No problem," The fellow said, grabbing the leather grip she had let go of, and standing in front of her, he held out his other hand to her. "John Smith is the name."

She hesitated a moment before gripping his hand, and giving it as good a shake as she could manage. "Barbara. Barbara Chesterton."

"Barbara." He smiled. "Barbara Allen." He remarked.

Barbara frowned. "I never did make any young man die of heartbreak."

"Of course not, I wouldn't dream of suggesting that," He remarked, letting go of her hand, "But you must have made at least one man blush in your lifetime." He lifted an eyebrow with a slight hint of a smile.

"I did indeed, and he was my husband." She said, wondering if this young fellow was being inappropriate.

"Was? Past tense?" He asked, staring at her solemnly.

She nodded. "He died last year. Ian was his name."

"I'm so sorry." He said, swallowing a little. "Terribly sorry. Truly I am." He said with a catch in his throat.

"Why? You never knew him." Barbara said, staring up at him. What was wrong with this man?

"He must have been a great man to win your heart." The fellow said. "A very great man indeed. And any loss like that is tremendous, to you or to anybody, even those who never knew him."

"He was indeed. Brave and noble, like a knight of old." She said, nodding. "He was also intelligent, a man of science, and very courteous as well. Not many of those left in the world these days. A gentleman who looked after me all of his life." She said, wondering why she was telling all of this to a perfect stranger, but then again, she had never really spoken these sentiments out loud—not even to Ian, perhaps. "I loved him so much."

"I know you did." The fellow said, looking away from her. "And perhaps you give too little credit to others. There are still gentlemen and ladies out there in the world, and beyond, just like your Ian. And where are your friends and family members? Shouldn't you be traveling with someone?" He asked, looking around.

She shook her head. "I live alone now. My son moved out of the house long ago and I-why are you asking me all of this?" She asked, looking up at him. Oh, Barbara, don't trust this one, her head told her. Her heart was saying something different, but she didn't trust her heart right now.

"I just want to know." The fellow asked, shrugging. "Call me curious, I usually am. And when I'm not, I know enough. Why are you traveling to London alone?"

"I'm not-there are people surrounding me." Barbara said. "And if you must know, I am going to meet some friends there who are expecting me and they will be very worried if I don't show up. They will call the police, and maybe even the military. There are some very important people amongst them."

The fellow smiled. "Really important people? Like a doctor, a scientist, a captain, a—Brigadier even?" The fellow asked and then laughed. "Oh my gosh, I hadn't even realized there would be-there was at least one group now, but they weren't-well." He said, sobering up. "I really must be going now," He said, glancing around. "I suppose that was all I wanted to know. Toodles, Barbara. Keep safe!" He said, letting go of the grip and walking away from her.

* * *

Barbara sat in her seat for a moment longer, and then stood up to go after him. "Wait a moment!" She cried, following after him. He had gotten ahead of her, striding through the crowd that seemed to part before him like waves beneath a triple-masted, double-deck ship of the Royal Navy, but then he paused a moment and slowly turned around, majestically like a wizard or a king.

"Yes?" He asked, like there was nobody else in the train car but him and Barbara.

Barbara stared at him. "It's you, isn't it?" She asked, approaching him slowly and looking him up and down. "I saw...a photo of you once, not that long ago, on a newscast with Miss Martha Jones and Captain Jack Harkness—when you three were wanted." She said, now right in front of him. "The photo was a bit blurry, and I only saw it a minute, but Sarah Jane Smith pointed you out. I didn't recognize you. You looked so different." She said, but it was the Doctor, she was sure.

"How is Sarah Jane Smith?" The Tenth Doctor asked.

"Fine as ever. She is happy, running around to get the scoop, and she has a son, a young son." Barbara laughed. "A son younger than he looks. She showed me the picture, and told me the story." She said.

"That's my Sarah Jane Smith. How are you?" He asked, worried.

"I'm fine. I've got this new group, the Doctor's companions," She remarked, eying him, "And we meet every week to have a talk and drink some coffee. No big deal really, just a bit of fun, and we get along splendidly. It's good for me. I joined them a few weeks ago, just before the big incidence with Royal Hope Hospital. You went to the moon?" She asked.

"Judoon platoon on the moon, that's right," He said, nodding. "That was awhile back for me. I traveled with Martha Jones for several months, and then-oh, a great big year happened that never was, and then...I got stuck on this whopping interstellar cruise liner called Titanic. It was a great big, terrible disaster. Happened this coming Christmas. Can't tell you exactly what happened, spoils it." The Doctor said.

"Right. I'll try to avoid it." Barbara said, slowly nodding. "Well, Doctor, it sounds like a lot has befallen you."

"The usual stuff." He remarked.

"Did you come here to check up on us?" She asked.

"I wanted to check up on you, actually." He said. "I spotted you in the coffee shop you and your group visit, I imagine, but I had only seen you at the time. This was when me, Jack, and Martha were on the run, fugitives from Harold Saxon." He grimaced. "We were invisible, sort of, but I had a glimpse-"

"And you recognized me?" Barbara gasped.

"Of course I did. How could I forget you?" The Doctor smiled. "Your face hasn't changed a bit."

"Just a lot more wrinkles." She blushed, touching her face. "I'm old, you know."

"As am I." The Doctor said. "Older than you."

"You don't look it." Barbara said. "Not like you used to. You did look older than me, and now you look young enough to be my son."

"I am. I am older than you, it's just—different, that's all. I am-" The Doctor paused a moment. "I usually say I'm around 900 years old at this point, but that's not true. I'm actually even older than 900. But in recent years, I started counting my age by how long I've been traveling in the TARDIS. The year that I met you and Ian, with Susan by my side, I count that as my first year of life."

Barbara arched her eyebrows. "900 years of traveling in the police telephone box?" She asked. "Time certainly does fly."

"And loving every minute of it." The Doctor clicked his teeth and grinned. "And I owe all of that to you, Barbara, and Ian. Without you two, I never would have stuck with that police telephone box, and I never would have earned the respect and love I have for history, science, adventuring and all sorts of things. Because of you two, I got to experience a whole new life, taste adventure, and know what it meant to be...a hero, I suppose. Or doing the right thing." He added.

"Oh, you can't mean that," Barbara said, though her heart soared to hear the Doctor say those words.

"It's true, I never would have put my life-or other people's lives-on the line, time and time again, to do the right thing." He sighed. "Before I met you two, Barbara, I was just running, running away with Susan, trying to get as far away as I could from Gallifrey, and everything that I had left behind. I was so angry at being exiled, upset that I had to disguise myself and Susan, hide our dignity and intelligence—the vanity of a Time Lord." He rolled his eyes.

Barbara listened, slightly shocked that he could be so forthcoming. She wondered how much he had really changed from the Time Lord she had known.

"And then I met you two and, before I knew what I was doing, I was listening to you and Ian speak, learning about your world and culture through your behaviors, and then I started to appreciate humanity. This was a very big deal for a Time Lord like me, when we were very isolated, and-well, I had never known how important and wonderful and loving people like you could be." He smiled.

"Thank you, Barbara." He said, and wrapped her up in a big hug.

* * *

Barbara, shocked, accepted his hug and patted him on the back. This was more than she ever could have hoped for...she closed her eyes, and started crying. "Don't cry, Barbara, it's going to be okay." She heard the Doctor say.

Before she could speak, there was a jolt on the tracks from ahead of them. The Doctor froze. Barbara opened her eyes. "What was that?" She asked.

"June 13, 2008..." The Doctor muttered and then pushed away from the hug as he asked, "What's the number of this train?"

"Express Train 239." She said. "I always take this train."

"Oh no." The Doctor said, his face falling. "The Theologians of the 4th Quarter!" He cried, grabbing Barbara's hand. "This way, run! My TARDIS is in the back of the train." He said, pulling her along.

"I can't-" She said, struggling to keep up with the Doctor, when the crowd of people on board the train car were starting to panic, pushing and shoving. "Doctor!" She cried, losing her grip on his hand.

"Barbara!" He cried, sweeping back towards her. "There's not enough time," He said, hugging her tightly with his body and coat covering her.

The train went off the rails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said on Fanfiction when I originally published this--'Sorry! (I hate doing this to Barbara.)' It just wound up happening this way, Barbara gets into some serious, deadly trouble--again. Will she actually die, like with the Tolcafane, or will she get out of it somehow?


	10. A True Romantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria meets 8!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, Barbara and Ten have to wait awhile to be rescued. More people are getting involved.

Victoria Wakefield Harris walked down the sidewalk in the middle of London, and turned to enter the used bookshop whose sign read 'Arcane Words—London'. She greeted the cashier by name, and then asked if there were any new shipments of old poetry books. "A few came just this week." The cashier said. "They should be right in the corner, next to the history collection."

"Thank you." Victoria said, and went down the center aisle past stacks of old books, and turned towards the back corner where the poetry and history books were closely located to each other. As Victoria rummaged through the books, she hummed to herself an old song her father used to sing, long ago but not so very far away from here. She was looking for a specific poetry book, one that she had read in her childhood almost a century and a half ago, though she could not rightly recollect the name of the book or the author. It was a silly sort of obsession.

She remembered the poems were very lovely, though, and she had cherished the book very much. She had carried it around with her wherever she went, tucked into a pocket of her dress, and she had even carried it on board the TARDIS when she had left her home with the Doctor and Jaime, after her father had been killed by the Daleks. However, when she left the TARDIS in 1982, she had forgotten to take the book with her, possibly leaving it in her room, a careless sort of thing to do after she had nearly been killed once or twice on that adventure alone.

She had been searching for a copy of the book for about twenty years now, rummaging around in used bookstores like this one whenever she had the chance, and felt so inclined, almost certain that the book would be out of print by now. In a way, however, it really did not matter to her whether or not the poetry book would ever be found. It might be lost forever, gone from this world with the last few copies crumbling into dust, but at least she had the chance to look at it once upon a time, and had enjoyed it very much. Perhaps the search sustained her more than anything else now.

She was very successful as a romance writer, with many of her books located at grocery stores, airports, and bookstores. The profession suited her very well when she could think up half a dozen different adventures at a time, romantic and steamy, writing them all down before she typed them out on the computer. She had published at least twenty books so far, with more to come, she was sure. The only problem was that there was no thrill in the writing. She had developed a sense of adventure with the Doctor and Jaime, which while not quite ladylike, had made her keen to discover new things and explore some more. Her father would have been quite proud of her, she was sure.

Though she had left the TARDIS to settle down with a new family, the Harris family in 1982, she had done so partly with the promise of exploring a new world-one about to embark upon the 21st century, the next millennium. While some exciting things had happened since then, most notably in the realm of scientific and technological advances, and the growing certainty in the general population that aliens did exist, she thought to herself that the 21st century was pretty much like the 19th and 20th centuries in terms of social norms. Some great strides had been made in equality, but humanity was just the same as it always had been.

* * *

Victoria was picking some poetry books off of the shelf and flipping through them randomly before putting them back on the shelf, when her hand reached out and grabbed—"Oh!" She gasped, looking through the gap in the shelves. "Sorry about that, sir."

"Quite all right, miss," said the gentleman, who bowed his head to get a look at her with a stack of history books collected in his arms. She gasped again, almost certain that she had been transported back in time.

The man who looked back at her appeared to be none other than George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron, or a facsimile of him. He seemed to be misplaced in time, an oddity even in this old bookstore, perhaps more arcane and ancient than the books around him. He certainly looked uncomfortable here. He wore a dark green frock coat, a cravat, and a silver waistcoat over a dress shirt with his elongated face topped by a mane of curly brown hair. His gray blue eyes were striking, looking right at her, oddly familiar in some way.

She stared at him, she was almost certain. He was probably a few years younger than her in physical form, although technically she was around 156 years old by birthday. "You just startled me," She laughed. She blushed. She wasn't a young school-girl anymore, but still, she had feelings.

"Yes, well, I seem to have that effect," He said, juggling his history books onto one arm so that he could brush back some of his hair. "Perhaps because I stand out a bit. Mayhap I should shave my hair." He said.

"I don't think you should shave, I think you look fine just the way you are. I think it's truly romantic in a way, and I mean true Romantic, like from the early 1800s. I'm Victoria." She said, holding out her hand.

"Ah, Jeff," He said, shaking her hand with his spare. "Thank you for the compliment."

"Jeff?" She said, laughing. "I thought it would be Byron!"

"I know it's not a very good name." He said, smiling. "But it's the best I've got at the moment."

She frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, nothing," He said, letting go of her hand to hold his books. "I should be going, I'm afraid. I have some research to do and time does not wait." He said, turning away from her to go down the aisle, vanishing in the shelving.

She sighed and went back to glancing through her poetry books, disappointed but certain that this was the way it was, until suddenly she heard footsteps coming towards her. She looked up, and saw Jeff coming towards her, lifting a book from the top of his stack. "Oh, pardon me, I almost forgot," He said, smiling.

"I was just on my way to the cashier to pay for these books, when I happened to notice this volume of poetry had gotten mixed up in my stack." He said, holding the book out to her. "I assume it was from your section, you probably were reaching for it," He said, nodding.

She grasped the book and he said, "Goodbye, Victoria," with a sweet smile before he turned around to run off, never to be seen again. And she felt the spine of the book, and knew that it was hers before she had even turned the front cover, to see her name written within.

* * *

"Doctor!" Victoria cried, striding forward to catch up with him. He stopped in the middle of the bookstore and turned around to face her, all of his books still in his hands. "It is you, is it not?" She asked, a little bit surprised that she could jump to such a conclusion, when the Doctor she knew was a short, old man with shabby bowler-shaped black hair who wore a long dark coat, a dress shirt, and bowtie. But it was him even so, as shabby now as he was then, only different.

He lowered the books onto the floor, and smiled. "Hello, Victoria," He said, his voice more melodic than it was before, yet it was his voice. "Yes, it is me. I'm so sorry." He said, "I just had to give it back to you."

"You were going to walk out of here without even telling me?" Victoria cried. "Didn't you know that I would follow you once I found out?" She asked.

"Yes, I should have known." The Eighth Doctor smiled. "How foolish of me." He said.

"It has taken you awhile to find me and return my book." She said, thumbing it. "One might even think you were avoiding returning it to me."

"Perhaps." The Doctor said, nodding slowly. "I have had it for awhile, I'll admit that. At first, I did not even know I had it. I believe Jamie might have found your book and kept it for awhile in his room until he left as well. Then it was lost in Jamie's room, which really was a mire of clothes."

"I know." Victoria said, smiling. She remembered the smell that had emanated from there, a manly stench from days of running and defending himself. "What happened then?" She asked.

"Jaime's room, I lost track of that room for awhile," The Doctor sighed, "When I was left on Earth at one point. I believe it became Adric's, and then Turlogh's room at one point..." He said, glancing upward. "Finally, I went in there to clean up a bit, and then I discovered your book, which had fallen behind a desk. I kept it for awhile," The Doctor said, "To read. It is indeed a good book of poetry, very refined and poignant. I thought I should give it back to you."

Victoria sighed. "At least it's safe, after all it's been through. I'm sorry I doubted you, and I thank you for finding it. I thought it had been lost forever. I should have been more careful."

"Think nothing of it," The Doctor sighed. "I should have been more considerate." He remarked. The front door of the bookshop opened with a ring of its bell.

"You were considerate enough, I believe, for what you had been through, and what you must have experienced. How long has it been for you since I left?" She asked, opening her book at random as the cashier greeted the new customer. "Decades, centuries perhaps? Must have been difficult to find me. One may say purely by chance." She said, idly flipping through the pages.

"Chance it was," The Doctor sighed. The customer was saying something.

"Why do you run?" Victoria asked, slamming the book shut. "Is it merely to avoid unpleasantness, reminders of the past, or because you have nothing to say about the past?"

"A combination of everything." The Doctor said, distracted by something going on at the front of the store. "And also because I'm busy with my work sometimes. Victoria-"

"I thought as much." Victoria muttered. She frowned. "What's going on up there?"

"Doctor!" The customer cried, moving aside to reveal the dead cashier lying on the floor beside his desk. "We have come for you."

"Run!" The Doctor cried, knocking aside stacks of books, and then pushing over a shelf to block off the people coming into the store. Victoria ran, just like she had done as a young woman. It was like being transported back in time.

"Doctor! There's a back door over here," Victoria cried, glancing back as he caught up with her. "What are they?"

"Theologians of the 4th Quarter, and they have caught up with me." The Eighth Doctor said, grabbing her hand. "Come on," He said, pushing the back door open as they moved out.

They raced down the alleyway, Victoria almost certain that they had gotten away, and loving this moment somehow, when suddenly they were surrounded. The man who had killed the cashier came forward and said, "There is no escape, Doctor, not for you or for your friend this time. You both will be taken to our headquarters." The leader nodded.

Victoria struggled against the captors who tried to grab her, and the Doctor shouted, "Leave her alone! She is not a part of this mess!" Suddenly, everything went dark for Victoria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the funny thing? The whole thing with Victoria writing 'Starry Highlands'...I had not known, until reading the Chicks Unravel Time book, that Diana Gabaldon had actually written Outlander with Doctor Who's Jamie half-in-mind. It's true, I didn't know that connection! And it finally led me to checking out that book. Yeah, interesting reading experience there.


	11. Eat Your Vegetables!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah Jane meets 11! (Really, this takes place in July 2008 or so, before Death of the Doctor and such Sarah Jane Adventures. After Invasion of the Bane, though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh...Sarah Jane Smith's death was still very fresh in my mind when I wrote this chapter and this part of my fanfiction story. I still have not seen the later half of the Sarah Jane Adventures, I will get around to that, but I wanted to get in the Doctor's reaction to this news. Plus, 11 fun in the grocery store. (For 11, this takes place in between God Complex and Closing Time. I wrote this chapter in 2012 or so, before his departure was even announced. Sigh.) And it was a coincidence, a fun one, that this happened to be chapter 11 and Eleven showed up!

Sarah Jane Smith pushed her cart through the grocery store close to her home, studying her list as she tried to pick out the best items to satisfy her and her son's needs. She was still getting used to the idea of being a parent, trying to find the right balance between love and discipline when necessary. Being responsible for another person was difficult, especially when she had gotten used to taking care of herself for awhile.

Luke, however, was just getting used to life in general, being a teenage boy experiencing the world for the first time ever, which was probably more difficult than her own dilemma, putting it into perspective a bit. Luke really was a baby in some ways, although a very smart one. He was learning, and she was proud of him. He would be a great man someday, she hoped. He just had to get used to being a teenager. Maria would help him whenever she could, although she wondered sometimes if—

Another shopping cart crashed into hers close to the produce aisle, hard enough that her shopping cart was knocked over to the side slightly. "Watch it!" She cried, grimacing slightly as the weight of the cart she had held onto nearly wrenched her arms off. Although she had managed to righten it after a few moments, several items toppled out of the cart and scattered across the floor.

"Sorry!" A voice cried, that of a young man with dark brown hair—and a tweed suit? With a bow tie? Sarah Jane noticed with a grimace as she wondered what was going on here-running over. "My apologies. My cart ran off. I got tangled up with some stuff over there," He said, pointing back the way he came, "And then I was leaning on the cart too much, which gave way underneath me when I tripped, who knew?" He grinned at her. "So apologies accepted? Can I help you with that?" He asked, bending down to pick up her groceries before she got the chance to reply.

"Excuse me, but I am not accepting your apology." She said, looking down at him. "Don't you know that it is dangerous running around the grocery store, slamming your cart into other people like this? You could have gotten yourself or somebody else killed!" She said, shaking her head. "Didn't your mother teach you better manners?"

"Well, I was taught better manners," The young man said, straightening up with all of the items crammed up into a tight embrace across his chest, "But I quickly forgot all about them as time wore on." He grinned. "But I imagine that if you were my mother, I would never ever forget my manners." He said, putting the items back into her grocery cart. "Never ever." He added for good measure, almost solemn.

"What is the world coming to?" Sarah Jane Smith said half to herself. "I think you should be reminded of what it means to be well-behaved." She said, shaking her head and wondering when she had gotten to be some young man's idea of an old lady, a mother.

Technically, she was a mother, Luke's mother, but that wasn't the point here.

She would have laughed to see herself acting like this ages ago, no, she would have been ashamed to see herself acting like this. She was once a free young woman, proud to be independent and able to support herself as a journalist, not to mention traveling the universe with a Time Lord, but now here she was bossing and lecturing a younger person about like he was a common scallywag in the middle of the grocery store for what was, let's face it, a mistake he was apologizing for. Was she becoming a tyrant?

He was a strange young man, she had to admit, dressed up like an older person—possibly some sort of eccentric. She could remember at least one...

"What is all of this?" The young man asked her, interrupting her reverie as he peered down into her grocery cart. "Junk food?" He remarked, shaking his head. "I think you should be eating healthier, wholesome stuff. Try a banana, or some grapefruit," He remarked, turning around to pick up some fruits and vegetables. "There's some broccoli, carrots, tomatoes—tomatoes are good for you, they're cool." He said, throwing these items into her cart.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, staring at him as she pulled her cart away from him. "Are you my mother, lecturing me about produce?" She asked him. He stared at her so solemnly and seriously, leaning up against the produce display, that she just had to shake her head.

"I don't think so, no. For your information, I am buying some of this stuff for another person," She said, not adding that it was her son when it made her feel old, "And yes, I was going to buy some produce here, but you have no right to lecture me like this," She said, looking around. "Is there a camera here? Are you filming me? Is this some kind of joke?" She asked, a little bit nervous now. She could not understand this.

"No, it's not a joke, it's just that I'm concerned for you, that's all." The young man said, easing up a little bit. "It's just...I'm afraid, and you're-" He smiled again. "You're my friend, dear Sarah Jane Smith."

"Sarah-it's you, isn't it, Doctor?" Sarah Jane remarked, staring at him. "Good grief. You look different, again. What happened to you?" She asked, appalled. He kept changing, every single time.

"Fire, you might say," The Eleventh Doctor said, brushing it off. "Got a new TARDIS interior as well. Not coral-do you want to come see it?" He asked, smiling as he pointed behind him. "It's back on the shipping dock." He said. "Ready to go anywhere."

"Doctor, I can't, I'm not-I've got responsibilities now!" She said, shocked again. "I can't keep running off with you, I'm-I'm in the middle of shopping!" She remarked. "I've got a son, in case you don't know-"

"Luke." The Doctor said, nodding. "I've met him once or twice, although that hasn't happened for him or for you yet." He said, hesitating.

"Doctor, what, are you going backwards?" Sarah Jane Smith asked.

"Maybe a little bit." The Doctor said. "My previous self—the one you met at Deffry Vale—is still running around, which reminds me-" The Doctor said before Sarah Jane could speak, "What day is it?" He asked.

"June 13, 2008," Sarah Jane Smith, adding the year in case he didn't know that.

"Of course!" The Doctor cried, grabbing Sarah Jane's hand. "Come with me, you were with me, I remember that part," He said, racing off and dragging her along with him.

"Doctor!" She cried, glancing back. "My groceries!"

"Oh, that's okay, we'll grab them later," The Doctor said, waving her off. "We'll be back in two shakes of a kitty cat's tail, although that sometimes does go wrong." He added. "I need you with me, Sarah Jane Smith, it's important!" He cried. "Barbara and I are in trouble."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Sarah Jane, taking the lead as she spotted the TARDIS. It looked different again as well. Not different since she was traveling with the Doctor, but different since Rose and Mickey-where were they? Gone as well? Canary Wharf? She would have to ask him about that later. Barbara was in trouble.

"You are good!" The Doctor cried, catching up with her.

"I've been getting some exercise lately," She said as he snapped his fingers.

"Exercise is important," The Doctor said as the TARDIS doors opened.

"You can just snap your fingers and they-?"

"It's something I've developed." The Doctor said. "Bit of a gift from the TARDIS as well." He added.

"Oh my goodness." Sarah Jane Smith said, walking slowly into the TARDIS. "Oh my word, Doctor, it's beautiful, it's—it's magnificent," She said, although she missed the old one even more.

The white walls and techno style console were plain and pale compared to this monstrous beauty, but still it had an elegance and style of its own. The coral reef interior she had seen last year couldn't compare—it was dark and shadowy in there, but warm and bright as well. Perhaps the coral was not as welcoming as the white stark walls, nor was it as warm and bright and glossy as this kaleodiscope, candyland interior. The candyland interior was certainly beautiful and strange as well, much like this new Doctor. He was definitely a candyland Doctor. Why did she feel so old?

The Doctor snapped his fingers, and the doors shut behind him. "I'm glad you like it," He said, smiling. "I fixed it up as best I could, went a bit overboard on the remodel, I must admit. But the fire had burnt away so much of the old console room that I thought that it was worth the risk of jazzing it up, sort of, making it more extravagant and opulent—sort of a statement, I know." He said.

"It's beautiful." She said, smiling, sort of falsely.

"Right," He said, staring at her for a fraction longer than necessary before he headed up the ramp to the console, and she followed behind him. She shook her head, wondering what was going on here besides Barbara and-another Doctor?-being in trouble. She thought there had to be another reason why he had gone to the trouble of visiting her, in the grocery store of all places, she just could not figure it out.

She could not even sit properly on what was some kind of jump seat as he finnagled his way around the console. "Just a quick trip, a materialization on the spot, that's all we need." He said, checking the clock on the console. "Right time, right place, Express Train 239, tracks heading into London—damn Theologians of the 4th Quarter." He muttered to himself before pulling the lever. "Here we go!" He cried, "Hold on tight!"

Sarah Jane gasped as they took off, and she remarked, "It's hairier than I thought!"

"She's old, takes more of a bite out of her these days to do these jumps," He said, patting the console, "But you can do it, can't you, you old girl? Sexy!" He called.

"Oh, boy!" Sarah Jane remarked, laughing and rolling her eyes. He never changed, even when he did. She felt more comfortable with that thought.

* * *

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something forming at the bottom of the ramp, near the doors. "What is that?" She cried, staring at the shadowy figure.

"It's me and Barbara, we're close to snatching them out!" The Doctor cried, twisting a knob. "But there's some resistance, we're really not supposed to be meeting like this!" He grimaced, looking up. "But we do, come on, come on, we do, you know this has to happen." He whispered to the air, to time, to the console.

Sarah Jane stared, breathless, as the figure faded and formed, faded and formed, a frozen moment in time, the 10th Doctor hugging Barbara tightly as his brown coat flared out around the other woman. Smoke puffed off of them. Where were they? Would they survive?

Finally the figure firmed up and grew even more solid, the 11th Doctor laughing happily as the frozen moment became unstuck. Even Sarah Jane Smith felt like laughing for joy. Barbara and the 10th Doctor breathing heavily as the coat flapped down, and then they slowly let go of each other, turning their tear- and smoke-stained faces around to stare at the 11th Doctor and Sarah Jane.

"Barbara! What happened?" Sarah Jane asked.

"It was horrible. A train crash." Barbara started to say, and then looked around. "Where are we?" She asked nervously, clutching the 10th Doctor for support.

"A train crash?" Sarah Jane Smith said. "Express 239...a commuter train crash...oh my god..." She said, reeling.

The 10th Doctor stared up at the 11th Doctor. "You have got some explaining to do." The 10th Doctor said, furious.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come pick you up sooner, I had to pick up Sarah Jane Smith," The 11th Doctor said, pointing. "It was important, I remembered her being here." He said.

"That's not the point!" The 10th Doctor said, pointing. "You're not supposed to be here!" He exclaimed. "You're supposed to be-I don't know where, but not here and not now!" He said.

A train crash? What could the Doctor have done to stop it? Sarah Jane Smith thought to herself, glancing at 11. It was a thought she had considered many times before.

"I am supposed to be here," The 11th Doctor said, smiling. "This is happening for you, but I remember this. I was so mad, wasn't I? I had forgotten." He said.

The 10th Doctor frowned. "Of course you would be mad. How could you have forgotten that?" He asked.

"Other things have made me so mad, so angry-many different things," The 11th Doctor said, sighing as his brief fury faded. "I have forgotten because it has changed so much." He whispered.

"Some things should never change," The 10th Doctor said. Though his voice had softened slightly, the menace lying low, his grip on Barbara's shoulder had tightened as both Barbara and Sarah Jane noticed that he was scared by what he was hearing, scared that he had changed so much.

The 11th Doctor smiled sadly. "I remember that." He said.

"Never mind, what are we supposed to do here?" The 10th Doctor asked, letting go of Barbara for a moment as he looked around, pacing at the bottom of the ramp like a caged animal, not even daring to go up to the console yet as he was still getting used to the idea that this was his TARDIS, his home, so transformed.

"Saving the others, getting us all together, and working out how to solve this problem." The 11th Doctor remarked, kicking the glass floor.

"Is that-" The 10th Doctor gasped, looking up as he brushed back his hair. "Is that really what happens now?" He asked.

"Don't you remember?" The 11th Doctor asked, looking up at him.

"Vaguely. Not really, no." The 10th Doctor muttered, looking down and waving his hand. "It's been awhile." He said, glancing up. "I haven't really thought much about what I did here, in this situation, all of the different times." He said, sighing. "There were so many. How do we connect them all up?" He asked.

"Well, that's what happens here, we lead the charge." The 11th Doctor said, turning and striding towards him. "It's time for us to be in charge, we are the ones responsible here for helping the others. We've got all of the experience, after all, we should know what happens here and how we can help."

"Do you know?" The 10th Doctor asked.

"A little bit." The 11th Doctor wavered. "Vaguely."

"Figures." The 10th Doctor muttered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "That's just me. You haven't got any more of a clue than I do." He accused.

"I'm working on it. I just need a little more time." 11 said, pacing back and forth.

"We're running out of time, aren't we?" Ten said, turning to Eleven. "We're coming together, aren't we?" He gestured. "Things are happening everywhere, faster than we can anticipate. We've got to figure this all out before time spins out of control!" He exclaimed.

"Fine, fine, just don't get into a fuss," 11 said, pacing.

"What's going on here?" Barbara asked.

"They're Doctors, plural." Sarah Jane Smith said from above, watching 11 pace. He seemed to be in control, just barely-certainly more than his younger self.

"Oh my." Barbara said, sagging a little bit as the 10th Doctor caught her.

"See?" 11 cried as Sarah Jane hurried down to help revive Barbara. "This is why I brought her here!" He exclaimed.

The 10th Doctor and Sarah Jane glared up at 11. "See-sorry." 11 murmured, turning away as they went back to checking up on Barbara.

"I hope we're not going to have to deal with any more of this-" Sarah Jane started to say and then stopped as she realized the full extent of this mess. "We are, aren't we?" She asked, looking up at 10. Right now, 10 seemed to be in control, while 11 was turning into a child-it was a mess, and she was right in the middle of it.

"I'm sorry. All of the Companion Coffee Shop friends, and all of the Doctors-" 10 started to say, looking solemnly and seriously back at her. His face seemed old, though not as old as 11's had back at the produce section. "Yep, it's going to happen." He sighed and said, picking up one side of Barbara, "Help me get her up onto this chair, or what's left of it, anyway."

"What happened here?" Ten asked the 11th Doctor, glancing around his former TARDIS transformed as he and Sarah Jane Smith carried Barbara up to the chair.

"Can't tell you. Spoilers." 11 said, swaying back and forth, his eyes glancing Sarah Jane Smith occasionally.

"Of course. Spoilers." 10 muttered, glancing at Sarah Jane as well. "I'm going to fetch some water for Barbara. 11-care to join me? I may need your help finding the kitchen."

"Right. Right this way," 11 said, leading the 10th Doctor along, up to the second floor. The 10th Doctor glanced back at his former companions occasionally, but 11, with unsteady step, never looked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eleven and Ten have to have a serious talk...


	12. Captain Jack's Misadventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Jack Harkness gets into a crazy misadventure with the Third Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (For Captain Jack, it's still in the middle of Series Two of Torchwood.)

Captain Jack Harkness was back in London, about to attend one of those quaint coffee shop meetings the former companions of the Doctor had started holding every Wednesday, the sort of meeting where you talked about some general affair over a coffee cup the barista had brewed up for you, and munched on some sandwiches and salads that had been wrapped up and placed in the cooler for purchase. It was kind of cute in its own way, except a little mundane and boring for his tastes. Nothing exciting ever happened at these meetings, as the coffee shops they were held in were a by-product of a less revolutionary era, concerned with keeping up appearances and maintaining order so that the customers would be dying from a lack of excitement and adventures while enjoying an espresso grande.

Some of the former companions, probably most of them, didn't mind such a boring existence as they had gotten used to the years of leisure and relaxation they had experienced since leaving the Doctor, but at least a few of them-like Sarah Jane Smith and himself-had gotten used to bigger, grander things than sitting around in a coffee shop, drinking and chatting. These meetings were just a little bit too predictable for his taste, as a result of this environment, never amounting to anything more than a summarization of "what did you do this week", and "what did you do while traveling with the Doctor?". They probably repeated themselves a lot as well. Would he die from boredom? Probably, but then he would just get resurrected again. Thank you, Miss. Rose Tyler, or Miss Big Bad Wolf, whatever it was.

These meetings were also a little cramped when they had to huddle around a single coffee table together, spreading out only if their group was just too big. They were starting to outgrow the coffee shop space, Jack had noticed, taking up too much room from the general populace. They probably had gotten noticed as well by some of the regular customers and the baristas. Someone was bound to complain about, or question their regular meetings at some point. They needed to find a new space that could accommodate all of them, perhaps private as well when they felt like keeping their conversations about the Doctor to themselves. Perhaps they could meet at one of their houses, like at Sarah Jane's house or at the Brigadier's, but then the host might feel put-upon to accommodate all of them, and then the meeting would veer off into marveling at how lovely this house is, and where did you get all of these fine decorations? That would be the nadir of this group's existence, and they probably would disband if it got too mundane. Best to just stick with the coffee shop for now.

Jack tolerated the affair, understanding that some of these people were old-fashioned, being born in the 20th century or even earlier, and they wouldn't understand some of the things he had experienced in the 51st century, and in his travels through time and space. They wouldn't know about the adventures you could have at an underwater cafe, or on one of the moons of Rexel 5. The companions might have traveled with the Doctor, and they might have had some exciting meals along the way, but baby, they wouldn't have experienced at least 50 years worth of such exciting, exhausting meals. No, they enjoyed the coffee shop, their home away from home, and it was best to let them be satisfied with that for now.

Captain Jack sighed, sipping a fruity cocktail—he had forgotten the name of it, but it was an extravagant name to match its exorbitant price, not its rather peach-fuzz melancholy buzz—and watching a couple of guys dance. He was at one of those gorgeous London clubs that really lit up on a Friday or a Saturday night, but now it was a Wednesday morning, and the crowd was kind of nonexistent, aside from a few entertainers, the bartender, a couple of drunkards scattered about the place and the bouncer sleeping in the corner. He felt kind of blue, about to attend one of those well-meaning but dull sort of meetings, and he wasn't even going to get the chance to enjoy himself.

He missed Ianto. He missed Gwen. He missed Tosh and Owen-he just missed Cardiff and Torchwood in general, even if it was just for one day. Driving over here to London for the day and then driving back—at least there was nothing going on in Cardiff at this time to take up his mind with worry, but still, he wondered if they were doing well without him. Ever since he had come back from his brief trip to Utopia with Martha and the Doctor, and experienced the Year That Never Was, he had come to appreciate Torchwood even more than before, especially his team of people. They really were a team, and even had managed to stay together when he had sort of abandoned them to pursue the Doctor. He had missed them, and even though they had kind of moved on for awhile, he did know that they had missed him as well while he was gone. He loved them, and he didn't want to lose them again.

Still, he wondered if the Doctor was doing well, without Rose or Martha to protect him from himself. Captain Jack was sipping his cocktail again when he noticed an old-looking man with a coiffed mane of white hair, wearing a red velvet smoking jacket and frilly shirt along with evening trousers and boots, inch his way along towards him. Captain Jack's eyebrows arched up, surprised and taken aback by the appearance of this stranger, especially as he thought he saw the glint of a gold medallion peeking out from behind the white frilly shirt. It made him want to laugh, but he was intrigued by this fellow who appeared to be—well, from the 1970s, if not earlier. They had some strange styles back in the 70s-he never had quite taken to those disco suits people kept talking about-though he thought it could be just some retro look. But this fellow seemed distinguished enough to be wearing any old tatters flung against the wall, and still look smart.

"Excuse me," The older-looking man said, approaching him slowly and cautiously, "But are you the holder of the missing puzzle piece from Lombart?"

"I could be the one that you seek," Jack said, grinning as he turned to the older-looking man. Jack was well over 140 years old, though he would not say just how old, while the gentleman appeared to be no older than 60 at the most. For Jack, 60 years old had been the prime of his life, and he thought that this fellow could match him easily enough in whatever game he wanted to play.

"Oh, you're not him at all," The older-looking man said dismissively, turning away. "So sorry to have bothered you."

"Wait a moment, I could be the one that you seek," Jack said, finishing up his drink and placing it down before following after the older-looking man. "I may not know Lombart, or have the exact missing puzzle piece that you're searching for, but I know a lot of things that might interest you, and could prove quite useful in this endeavor," Jack said, trying to corner the gentleman so that they might be able to enjoy themselves together. "My qualifications for this sort of quest or mission are through the roof, and I could help you tremendously on-"

"That's nice, but I don't want to bother you, and I don't think you can help me in this matter." The fellow said, trying to step around Jack. "I must find the gentleman I was told to seek, but I don't know what he looks like, or what the missing puzzle piece looks like-my fault entirely. Since you're not him, I will kindly ask you to leave me alone!" The fellow cried, skirting around Jack.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, a frown replacing his spoiled smile.

"You're annoying." The older-looking gentleman sniffed. "You bother me tremendously, just everything about you. I only approached you because I thought you might be the one I was told to seek, because you have a look about you of wrongness and strangeness." The older-looking man gestured. "But since you are not the one I seek, I will leave you alone. Good day, sir. And please leave me alone," The older-looking man said, turning away from Jack.

Jack looked down despondently and sighed, shaking his head. Did everyone just dislike him? First the Doctor had fled, giving him the slip because he had become 'a fixed point in time' or something like that, then—Jack looked up, startled. "Doctor!" He called.

A person had stirred at the bar, when Jack had called the Doctor's name, but Jack ignored that person for now as the Third Doctor turned around, staring at Jack. "What's that you say?" The Third Doctor asked, intrigued.

"You're the Doctor, aren't you?" Jack grinned, even though he felt slightly disappointed. The man that he winds up flirting with in a bar, at random, just happens to be one of the incarnations of the Doctor-and one that doesn't recognize him. Just his luck, one out of a billion chance, perhaps a trillion chance-he was an impossible man. "I've met you before. Or at least twice, if you count the regeneration-you haven't met me yet, have you?" He asked, further disappointed as the realization hit him. This was just not his day.

"I'm afraid not." The Third Doctor said, staring at him. "You're a soldier, aren't you?" He asked, slightly disparagingly.

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack sighed, and held out his hand, "And technically not a soldier, or at least not now. I have been a soldier in the past." He said.

"Of course you are," The Doctor muttered, gingerly grasping and shaking Jack's hand as if afraid to touch him. "I have been with soldiers for the past two years or so, and one of the first trips that I take in my newly repaired TARDIS is one where I meet a soldier that I happen to have-befriended?" He questioned.

"Sort of." Jack shrugged. "I have traveled with you in the past, a long time ago, but...you left me somewhere when I changed." Jack said, glaring at the Doctor slightly.

"Ah. A sore point." The Doctor remarked, glancing around. "Not one that you feel the need to revenge upon me?" He asked. "I have a habit of making enemies out of friends."

"Not really." Jack shrugged. "I had a long time to live with my condition, and then I got used to it, though I always wanted some answers to my questions, possibly a solution to my problem." He said sighing. "I met you for the second time about a month ago in real time, though it was a year ago for me, after over a hundred years of waiting for you to come back to me. You gave me some answers as to why you had avoided me, and left me alone, but you had no solution to my problem. Nothing you could do." He said.

"Sorry." The Doctor said, staring at Jack. "I have wronged you, haven't I?"

"Nothing you can do, I suppose, although I took advantage of some of the benefits this...gift, I guess you can call it, had bestowed upon me," Jack sighed. "Made things livelier, at any rate, and gave me a new lease on life." He said.

"Good to hear, Jack," The Doctor said, nodding and patting Jack on the back, "Good to hear."

"Thanks," Jack said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "So what is this missing puzzle piece you're searching for?" He asked.

"A riddle of sorts," The Doctor said, glancing around, "I was contacted by a seller, who wanted me to-that could be him over there," The Doctor said, nodding towards a booth in the far corner of the room, where a man appeared to be sitting and drinking, although his face and most of his body was hidden from view.

"Do you want me to watch out for you?" Jack asked, studying the seller.

The Doctor eyed him. "No, thank you, I'll be fine." He said, though he hesitated. "Just wait right here a moment, I'll be back, and we can talk some more. Watch the doors if you must." He added the last, before he headed for the booth. Neither one of them had noticed a seat had vacated at the bar several minutes before.

Jack, amused, retreated towards the bar a little, to get out of the way of the rest of the room, although he kept his eyes open for any signs of trouble. The Doctor never changed, even when his face did. Although Jack should be annoyed that, despite being the head of Torchwood Three in Cardiff-a commander in his own right, who had earned the respect of his team-he still allowed the Doctor to boss him around.

Still, he missed the old Time Lord, and their adventures together so long ago, and he did want the respect of the old Time Lord that he had grown to love, once upon a time, even when he had moved on since then, to other things and people, after years of heartache and misery. So he obeyed the Doctor's orders for now, knowing that it would be just for a short while, until the Doctor went away again. Jack could tolerate that much, at least.

Several minutes passed by as the Doctor, hunched over in conversation with the stranger at the booth, seemed to make headway in his negotiation for the price of a riddle. Captain Jack looked around once more, and then noticed the door behind the bar had opened, with several strange men in suits stepping out, peering about the club.

Jack stretched his arms and whistled. "Barkeep!" He called out. "How about a round of drinks for everyone here, on me?"

That had stirred the place up on a dull Wednesday morning, and for a moment Jack thought his ruse might work, as the Doctor was alerted that something was amiss. He tried to sneak out of the club with the seller, bending low to the floor. However, the strange men had been put on alert as well, suspicious of this odd occurrence, and though Jack had tried to block them, offering them a few mugs of beer and some minutes of his time, the strange men had spotted the Doctor. Immediately Jack slugged one of them, hoping to buy him a few more minutes of time, and then prepared to defend himself as one hand reached for his gun.

"Sorry, Jack, not today!" The Doctor called, appearing behind one of the strange men and-giving him a judo chop at the back of his neck? Whatever it was, it knocked the man down.

"I thought you abhorred violence!" Jack called as he slugged another man.

"Just anything to do with guns! Have I taught you nothing? Come along, Jack!" The Doctor called, as he, the seller, and Jack raced out of the club through the back.

Jack recognized the species of the seller as they raced through the kitchens. "Aren't you from-" Jack started to say.

"Never mind that!" The Doctor cried, as they ducked to avoid shots fired from the strange men, shots that weren't exactly bullets. The seller was hit, and Jack leapt up to fire back at the strange men. The Doctor listened to the dying words of the seller, and didn't bother to stop Jack in that moment. Jack was hit by a stray shot on the left side of his chest, but he didn't die just yet, as he dispensed with the final strange man.

"Let's get out of here," Jack said, wincing with the pain of his wound as he turned back to the Doctor.

"Good idea," The Doctor muttered, shutting the dead seller's eyes. The Doctor and Jack retreated out into the alleyway behind the club. "Are you all right?" The Doctor managed to ask Jack.

"I'm fine. Fine as you can be, when you don't die." Jack winced again. "How about yourself?"

The Doctor sighed. "I'm fine, I suppose, although-poor Raieat. He was supposed to retire, move to Bermuda, and enjoy life in the sunlight, but now..."

Jack slowly nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. Did you get the riddle?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"I believe so, considering," The Doctor muttered, glaring at Jack. "What is wrong with you? A person just died. Are you always this callous?"

"Doctor, I've lived almost two hundred years, oftentimes fighting-"

"I've lived three hundred years and more." The Doctor said. "And I always remember those who died-"

They heard a strange, familiar sound, and turned around to see the Doctor's TARDIS materializing-next to where another blue box was parked. "What in heaven's name-?" The Doctor started to say.

"I don't think heaven's name is in this," Jack remarked, smiling. Though this TARDIS was not his own, as his TARDIS did not have such a bright shade of blue, and had a different sign, at least this Doctor did not seem to recognize this TARDIS. "You're going to meet a future self, aren't you?" He asked.

"Why, yes, I suppose, the TARDIS certainly looks different," The Doctor remarked, studying it. "I wonder what could alter it so significantly?"

Jack opened his mouth, about to speak, when the TARDIS door opened, and a stranger's head popped out. "Hello! I'm the Eleventh, by the way." He remarked, stumping Jack, as he assumed this was the Doctor.

"Eleventh! But I'm-Third-" The other Doctor gasped, staring at the stranger.

"You seem to be aging backwards, Benjamin Button times twenty." Jack remarked as he realized just how old this stranger was, compared to this Third Doctor. "You're so vain, that song probably was written about you." Jack said.

"She wishes." The Eleventh Doctor muttered to himself.

Suddenly, someone else popped up behind Eleven. "Hello, Jack!" The Tenth Doctor said.

"Doctor! My Doctor!" Jack grinned, glad to see the familiar face at last. "My dream come true at last, I'm surrounded in a sea of Doctors!" He tossed his head back. "Although I never imagined it would be like this." He remarked, glancing towards Third.

"Never imagined it would be like this either." Third muttered.

"I remember this part." The Eleventh Doctor said to himself, smiling.

"Are you hurt badly?" The Tenth Doctor asked, noticing Jack's wound.

"Ouch. Yes." Jack grimaced to himself, clutching his side. "Let's go inside so I can die in the TARDIS." He said, as the Third, Tenth, and Eleventh Doctors helped him inside. It was bliss. "Barbara! Sarah Jane! Hello! Isn't this fun?" He called as the TARDIS dematerialized once more from the alleyway behind the club.


	13. Water and Coffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ten confronts Eleven about Sarah Jane Smith, Victoria and Eight are in jeopardy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this part of the story was written in 2012 or so, soon after Elizabeth Sladen's death, so that was still relatively fresh in the mind and influenced this scene.

Earlier...

"Would you like some tea, coffee, soda, or water?" The Eleventh Doctor asked his past self as they entered the kitchenette area. 11 headed for a pot of tea he had left on the stove, as 10 went for the faucet.

"No, thank you, I'm just getting Barbara some water," The Tenth Doctor muttered, grabbing a cup from the cabinet, before he stopped and turned around to face himself. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Didn't I just explain that-" The Eleventh Doctor said, grabbing a cup as well.

"I know you explained what we should be doing here right now, when we find ourselves in this exact time and situation, but you came here for a different reason, didn't you, just like I did?" Tenth asked. "I didn't come here expecting to be dragged into this Theologians of the 4th Quarter mess all over again-"

"Why did you come here then?" Eleventh asked Ten, pouring a cup of tea.

"You know perfectly well why I did since you're-"

"It's been awhile since I were you and I've been busy, saving the universe and Earth and what not, and it just slipped my mind, what with all of that time. Please indulge a wise old man like me, and remind me." 11 said, holding out the tea cup to Ten.

Ten sighed. "Fine, since you asked..." He sighed again as he grabbed the tea cup. "I was visiting Barbara because-because I have recently gone through the Year That Never Was, with the Master and-surely you know all of that." He said, sipping tea intermittedly. "Ben and Harry were telling me everything about what they had seen and heard, what the Tolcafane had done, and what had happened to all of my friends...Barbara was amongst those killed in the first strike by the Tolcafane," He said, silent for a moment.

11 paused as he reached for a tea cup.

"I knew that they had decimated one tenth of the Earth's population, I had even felt their pain when I was-whizzing about," He said, part of the Angel network, "But I never had realized-it drove the point home for me," He said. "If I had failed in my plans, if the Angel network hadn't worked or the Paradox machine wasn't destroyed, then-she would have been killed like all the rest, dead. I would have failed her. I rewrote time, corrected the paradox, and put everything back the way it was, but it still haunted my mind. I had failed her just by not stopping the Master before he implemented his plans."

11 had poured himself a cup of tea, and was mulling over what his past self had just said as he sipped.

"I could not erase the memories of The Year That Never Was, the remembrance of everything that had never happened, and I did not want to. I wanted to remember everything that had happened and not forget it, because it would have belittled the experience of what did happen, even though it didn't. The people who sacrificed their lives, those who were stolen from us, the losses and betrayals-if it was just swept aside underneath the rug, untouched and unspoken about, then what would we have-learned is not the right word," He said, shaking his head. "We did learn, but it was more than that, learned doesn't even begin to cover it. I was one of the few people that knew or remembered the Year That Never Was, and I could not let it go. The others-I did not let them forget." He said. "They were so few, out of so many people-"

"You were a stickler for not letting people forget," The 11th Doctor remarked, swishing the contents of his cup as he stared at the wall in front of the stove.

"Thanks for reminding me. Sometimes I wish I could let them forget." 10 said to himself, setting his empty tea cup down, as 11 winced, (thinking about Donna and Amy) but 10 continued on unawares, "I was still thinking through all of this with Barbara when Martha Jones left, and then-the Titanic happened, and Astrid Peth...I had to remember something good that I had done, in some small way," 10 said, staring off into the distance. "Something that had lasted, something untainted by-Barbara. My mind jumped immediately to Barbara. I could not forget that." He said. "I had to see her, alive and well again, one of my oldest and dearest friends, to remind myself why I still do what I do." He said.

"I know exactly what you mean." 11 confessed. "That's why I saw Sarah Jane Smith this morning, before I-I had to see her again." He said.

"Why?" 10 asked, staring at 11.

"It's not for awhile yet." 11 muttered, sipping the last of his tea and setting the cup down. "You don't have to worry about it just now."

"Do you want me to-I confessed everything to you," Ten said, "I deserve to get at least one hint."

"It's about both of us." 11 said.

"Both of you?" Ten said.

"Facing the unknown." 11 said.

"The-oh." Ten said, looking down.

"I told you too much." 11 said.

"That you did." 10 said.

They heard a knock, and turned around. "Barbara is waiting." Sarah Jane Smith said, gesturing back behind her as she leaned against the doorway.

"B-how did you find your way around?" 10 asked, stunned.

"The TARDIS likes me, I suppose?" Sarah Jane shrugged. "I don't know, I got lost a few times in the passageways."

"Yes, right, Barbara," 11 said, grabbing a clean cup and filling it up with water. "We'll be right there."

"Did you hear anything?" 10 asked, staring at her.

She shook her head. "Nothing." She said, turning away and leaving.

10 and 11 watched her go. "How does she die?" Ten asked Eleven in a low voice too soft for humans to hear. They didn't dare to read each other's minds just yet, afraid of what they might find in there.

"Cancer." Eleven said, before he and Ten followed after her.

* * *

"Victoria? Victoria? Are you awake yet?" A voice hissed somewhere to her left. There was a faint pounding noise on something solid and metal.

Victoria groaned softly as her eyelids fluttered open, her head pounding like a drum and she ached all over. "Where am I?" She muttered, trying to sit up, but finding it hard to move at all. Her vision was still blurry, but it was dark around her anyway, and she smelled-she tasted-an awful taste in her mouth, something chemical. Chemical. She was drugged, wasn't she? Swell. And when she tried to move again-shackles. She was chained, her hands and her feet! Swell again.

"Victoria!" The voice called again, more urgently, and Victoria remembered the last few minutes before she passed out—

"Doctor!" She called, peering about the darkness. The new Doctor, or at least one of them from what the others had told her before, how he had changed. But she couldn't see him now, he wasn't in here.

"Yes, it's me, Victoria, I'm here." He said, on the other side of the wall from where she was. "I'm sorry you got involved in this mess. I had not thought they would catch up with me so soon." He was scrambling around with something. "I had thought that-never mind, it will be all right. We're in the headquarters of the Theologians of the 4th Quarter, or at least in their holding cells, not that you can call them cells." He muttered.

She was in cramped quarters, lying flat, in a box slightly longer and wider than she was, barely tall enough for her to sit up in-a coffin? No, not a coffin, she tried to reassure herself so as not to panic, a shipping container perhaps.

"Breathe slowly and deeply, Victoria," He said, as if reading her mind, "Stay calm, and try not to move around too much. They have air holes, and a small window that they open to peer down at their prisoners, but it's not very good quality craftsmanship in my opinion. Air quality is poor, so just listen to me for a moment." He said.

His voice was soft and gentle, and she was lulled into a sense of calm listening to him. "I am trying to work on these chains, although they searched my pockets before we came here, and I have no sonic screwdriver with me right now. Still, it'll just take me a few minutes longer. Who are the Theologians of the 4th Quarter you might be asking yourself? I'll tell you." He said, speaking her thoughts again.

"The Theologians popped up in the late 20th century, upon the eve of the new millennium. A lot of things started happening on the eve of the new millennium." He rolled his eyes, she imagined. "In any case, they're a small group, which has not grown very much in the years since they formed, but they are a very potent faction, capable of great evil with their knowledge, skills, weapons, fortitudes, resources and connections. They have connections, I'm telling you. I imagine many of them to be scientists, statesmen, lawyers, soldiers-not the usual malcontents. They have been studying wavelengths, signals, cosmic radiation of some kind-" The Doctor probably shrugged. "They have a theory of the world ending, changing, or something happening soon that might rip the universe apart-I don't know what it is." He paused to answer her unasked question.

"I've been so busy with my own problems lately that I hardly had any opportunities to investigate what is happening here around this time period. But there is something happening here, I can feel it, although it's like a curtain I cannot pass," He said, half to himself. "Like my future, far ahead of me...still, whatever it is, I am sure I will deal with it soon. Just as soon as I get the Time Lords and the Faction Paradox off my back." He muttered. "The Faction Paradox are the worst, worse even than the Theologians!" He remarked. "What is it about crazy cults that they latch onto me?" He muttered. "Do I have some sort of magnetism for their-never mind." He said.

"I went along with them for now, when they captured us, to make sure that no harm would come to you, and to make sure that I would be here, in the right time at the right place when-I just hope I am not too late." He muttered.

Victoria's eyes were closing again as she felt faint, like she might pass out once more, but then she heard a chink, a faint rattling of sorts, and then a clank-she heard scrambling on top of her cell box, and then looked up as the Eighth Doctor's face appeared in the barred sliding window screen. "Ah, hello, just a few more minutes and then you'll be free. We'll have to hurry, though, someone is bound to come along eventually."

Victoria waited as the Doctor pried open her box, and then unlocked her chains as quickly as he could. She murmured, "Thank you," massaging her wrists as he helped her up onto her feet. She was a little wobbly, but she managed to clamber out of the box, and then looked around. They were in a warehouse and there were hundreds, perhaps a thousand or more of—"Doctor, these are all..." She gasped at the sight of all these containers, much like the ones she and the Doctor had just gotten out of.

"I'm afraid so." He muttered, frowning to himself. "These are all people the Theologians have captured." He strode forward to another box.

"How? Why?" She asked, following after him as he opened another window to peer inside the box. "We would have known if so many people had gone missing. These people-"

"If they were captured over time, in places or during events where they would not be missed, or at least not for awhile-" The Doctor was saying as he went from box to box-searching? For whom?

"But the boxes are so small." Victoria said to herself, massaging her wrists. "How could they be fed or given water and-how long have they been kept here?"

"They-that is a good question." The Doctor said, his eyes widening. "They would not be kept here for long if-"

"Doctor, who is it you're searching for?" She finally asked.

"My granddaughter Susan. She is amongst them, I think. I hope. I pray." He uttered the last in a low voice. "I can hear two hearts beating, her heartbeats, I can almost hear-"

"Oh, god, what does she look like?" Victoria asked, rushing to another box and pulling aside the hatch for the viewing window-oh dear. This man had been kept in here for a long while, apparently too long.

"Sixteen or so, a teenager," He said, still searching. "A nice girl with bright, round, intelligent eyes, dark hair, almost black. She might be dressed in hipster clothes, 60s hipster clothes." He added.

"Right, I'll keep that in mind." Victoria muttered, going on to another box. She had no idea what to think-Susan? The Doctor had a granddaughter, and her name was Susan?—but then she just had to focus on what needed to be done, to help the Doctor like he had helped her. She hoped they were not too late either.

They heard a door opening on the far side of the warehouse. "Uh-oh..." The Doctor said, looking up. Never a good sign when he said that.


	14. Gene Wilder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna Noble meets Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is after Series Three/before Series Four, so Donna hasn't encountered Ten in Partners in Crime. Although I'm going to stretch canon here...

"Not there," Donna Noble muttered to herself, crossing out coffee shop locations on a street map of London as she sat on a park bench near a lamp post in St. James' Park. "And not there either," She said, sighing to herself as she slipped off her shoes to rub the tops of her feet. Her feet were aching after having trudged through half of the city, searching for a place that she had heard of on an online chat room.

A secret group meeting almost weekly to talk of nothing but the Doctor? She had to find out about this, to see if they were legitimate, if it was real, but she had not dared to join in on their conversation, to ask if she could join the group. For one thing, she did not feel like registering with them online until she knew for certain that this was not a prank, or worse, some kind of conspiracy to eliminate people who knew about the Doctor. It was sort of ridiculous, to be so paranoid, but she had to be careful. A lot of crazy stuff was happening out there these days, including the disappearance of Royal Hope Hospital for several hours (apparently on a trip to the moon) and the death of President-Elect Winters (on broad a flying aircraft carrier)-she had to know that she could trust them first.

Which was why she had parked her mum's car on a side street about two hours ago, telling her mum before she left home that she was going on a job hunt, and started scouring the streets. Nothing so far.

"What am I doing wrong? I should have found this place ages ago by now," Donna Noble muttered to herself, scratching out another location. "I got the name and everything else right, didn't I? So why can't I find it? Where the hell is this coffee shop?" She asked.

"If you are asking me, I think you are going about it all wrong," She heard a high baritone voice say, with graceful, melodic low tones, and looked up to see a tall man wearing a dark brown, almost burgundy, frock coat, gray tweed trousers, a Scottish tweed vest, red ascot and floppy bohemian hat, along with the longest scarf she had ever seen of beige, gold, red, blue, gray and green stripes, standing right in front of her. He was holding an odd device, some sort of remote control box that appeared to be cobbled together, and it had a tiny little satellite dish on it that she swore was 'pinging'-what kind of a thing was that? Looked like something the Doctor might create. "It won't come to you that way, if you search for it so hard," He remarked, "Especially if it does not want to be found."

She stared at him at him for a minute. "What?" She asked, unable to say anything else. He had the strangest hairdo that she had ever seen before beneath his hat, some kind of shaggy, curly brown afro that was more suited to the 1970s, or perhaps the bohemians of the 1800s. He also had bug eyes and crooked teeth.

"If you are asking me, I think that you should get up off of that bench," He said, miming her standing, "And take a short walk out of this park, turn right on the next street corner, turn left, turn right again, spin around three times, and then eventually you'll find your destination. It's the way that I always get things done," He said, adjusting something on his remote control. "Perhaps it should be tuned to the centrifugal force of-" He muttered to himself.

"I didn't ask you, Gene Wilder." Donna declared, standing up. That's who he reminded her of, Gene Wilder of the Chocolate Factory, not the Doctor. "I was just asking myself what I had done wrong. I am always doing things wrong."

"Nonsense." The fellow said, adjusting something else. "Nobody does anything wrong, not ever. Well, occasionally they do, but usually they are doing something right, in the sense that they are doing what they were meant to be doing, unless they weren't meant to be doing that-"

"What kind of hippie are you? You're confusing me," Donna said, shaking her head, "And I wasn't talking-what am I doing talking to you here?" She asked.

"Precisely." He smiled, and reached into his frock coat to pull out a paper bag. "Would you like a jelly baby?" He asked, proffering the bag to her.

"No, thank you," She scoffed, pushing the bag away, "I don't know where that thing's been," She remarked. Where had that bag come from? She started to wonder. Were his pockets bigger on the inside, too, like the Doctor's had been?

"It's been around," He remarked, putting the bag away. "I hope you find your particular coffee shop, ma'am, although why should you be searching for a particular coffee shop in the first place?" He asked, staring at her. "There are dozens of coffee shops in the area, of all kinds, so what's so special about this particular coffee shop in the first place?"

"It's a shop, it's just a shop." She said, not willing to tell him more.

"Is it a brand name?" He asked. "I hate people who go in for brand names, allowing themselves to be herded about like sheep. Although those who go in for specialty coffee shops are often just as bad if not worst, elitists who tend to think of themselves as better than anyone else, and so they tend to keep their secrets to themselves." He remarked, turning to her. "They don't want anyone else to spoil their fun. Elitists tend to abuse the system."

"Aren't you being elitist, talking like that?" She remarked.

"I'm not elitist, I'm an outsider, that's different." He responded in kind.

"I don't think-it's just a shop, an ordinary coffee shop of no particular value, so just leave me alone." She said, turning away from him.

"Everything has value." He said. "Everything and everyone."

She paused. "You sound like the Doctor that I met once, last Christmas, the Doctor in his TARDIS." She murmured the last to herself, half turning to him.

"I am the Doctor in the TARDIS," The Fourth Doctor said, straightening himself up. "The definite article," He said, staring at her. "Who are you?" He asked.

"You can't be, you just can't be," She said, laughing as she stared at him and shook her head. "No, the Doctor's different! He's got-shorter hair, sort of prickly straight with sideburns. He wears trainers, Converse, and he wore a brown pinstripe suit when I met him last Christmas, not to mention the fact that he was younger as well, with a different face!" She cried.

"The TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimension in Space, a blue police telephone box similar to what you might see in the 1960s-bigger on the inside than the outside, I imagine?" The Fourth Doctor asked, staring at her.

"Yes, bigger on the inside than the out, and he came from someplace called Gallifrey." She muttered, staring at him. "How do you know that?"

"Because it is my TARDIS, although it might be my future self you are referring to," He said, staring at her. "I haven't met you before now, and I certainly have never looked like the man you are describing, so it is obvious to me that you have met one of my future selves, although if you would be so kind, please refrain from telling me anything more about my future self. I wouldn't like it if you spoiled everything that is going to happen." He said with a smile.

"I don't believe it," She said, shaking her head, "You can't be, he-he could do a lot of amazing stuff with that wonderful machine of his, but change his appearance?" She asked.

"It's not so hard to do," He remarked, touching his face, "Just regeneration—a rejuvenation of every cell in my body, rearranging them into a new order, just when the old cells are dying. It's an easy thing to do for a Time Lord like me, we are practically well known for it—that, and time travel." He grinned.

"Oh, Doctor, am I ever so glad to see you!" She cried, rushing forward to hug him before he had a moment to recover himself. "Even if it is like this." She said, pushing herself away from him, feeling a little awkward now when he was practically a stranger to her at this point, not having met her before. "I've been looking for a place where your friends meet," She said, reaching into her jacket pocket to pull out some folded papers, "A coffee shop, in the area. People like—Yetaxa801-" She said, reading off a screen name.

"Yetaxa?" The Doctor asked, snatching the piece of paper out of her hand, printed off of the chatr-oom website she had visited. "That's Barbara Wright, and—Duchess66? Definitely Polly," He remarked, staring at the names. "I believe that's the Brigadier there, and—who is K9Handler?" He asked himself.

"I don't know, I was going to find out." She said. "Come with me. They are your friends, aren't they?" She asked.

"They certainly are, but-I'm busy at the moment," He muttered, as the pinging on his satellite dish was growing louder. "I was going to find something else…" He nodded, and told her, "You better go-what's your name?"

"Donna, Donna Noble," She said, holding out her hand for him to shake, but he pushed the papers back into her hand instead.

"You better go, Donna Noble, get away from here," The Doctor said, turning away from her and running off in the opposite direction, towards the street. "Search for that coffee shop! And tell them that I am fine!" He called back at her.

"Wait a minute, Doctor!" She cried, running after him instead. "I'm not leaving without you!" She called. "I was searching for you." She told herself.

She left St. James's Park and ran off down the sidewalk after him, for though she had lost sight of him, what with people turning their heads around, and knocked-over stands to mark where he had been, and where he was going, his trail remained fresh enough that she could still trace his path for about an hour. But then the trail grew cold, and she grew tired of running-she couldn't stand it for very long. She was in an industrial park, near the Thames that they had drained last Christmas.

"All right, Doctor," She sighed, panting a little from exertion, "You're not getting rid of me that easily," She muttered, straightening herself up to continue her search.

He was searching for something, the pinging noise had indicated that much, something alien and technological perhaps, a signal of some kind, she thought to herself as she wandered around, somewhere in the general vicinity of this industrial park. So what did he tell her before about not searching for something so hard because it didn't want to be found?

"So think like the Doctor," She said to herself, turning a corner right, turning a corner left, and then turning a corner right again before she spun around three times. In the midst of her dizziness, and feeling sort of stupid, she spotted a dish up on a roof. "That might be it," She said to herself, slowly approaching the place.

"Donna?" She heard the Doctor's voice say behind her, and turned around to see him staring at her in bewilderment from behind the corner of a building. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Found ya, sneaker-upper," She said, thumbs up with a grin.

"Donna, get down! Get behind here with me," He said, gesturing frantically as she rushed over to his side, not needing to be told twice. "Foolish girl." He muttered.

"I'm not a girl. So what are we doing here?" She asked, serious now.

"We are tracking-I am tracking-" He emphasized, staring at her, "A signal from this quadrant. The readout is similar to another used by—ssh." He said, covering her mouth even before she said anything. They were still for a moment, until they heard the clomp, clomp, of metal, and witnessed the marching of—

"Robots. Real live robots." Donna breathed with a gasp when he removed his hand. "No more Santas from here on out."

"What?" The Doctor asked, staring at her. "No, they're-Cybermen, I think, although they're different from any Cybermen I have ever seen before," He said, turning around to stare at them, "Like a whole other species of them, although they are quite similar."

"Cybermen?" She asked, staring at their backs. "I think I've heard of them. They were ghosts, but then they became solid, and then-I wasn't around then, I was scuba-diving in Spain, but they were all over the world. From another dimension or something like that."

"Cybermen from another dimension." He frowned to himself. "Odd, that. Donna, you stay here-or better yet, go away." He said, about ready to make a move.

"What? No, I'm-"

"Here," He said, thrusting the remote control device he had been using into her hands. The satellite dish was spinning out of control. "Monitor it." He said, pointing at the display screen. "If it reaches 100, run, run away as fast as you can, I'm warning you, Donna." He said with a shake of his finger. "If you ignore me again, you will be dead."

"All right, okay," She said, taking him seriously. "Sorry. I only wanted to find out-"

"Curiosity will get the better out of you one of these days, Donna, just as it has gotten the better out of me, time and time again," He said, slipping off before she had a chance to say anything more.

"Nutter." She muttered to herself, staring at the display screen on the device; the dial was reaching 78. She grimaced to herself as it inched forward to 80, then fell back to 70, and then inched forward again until it reached 80—the fluctuations remained steady enough, she assumed they were broadcasting some kind of signal to all of the Cybermen. This must be some kind of headquarters for them. She wondered what kind of damage could be caused if it approached—

She felt a hand upon her shoulder. "No!" She cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm very sorry to leave Donna Noble in jeopardy. More to come!


	15. Smite and Jones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sarah Jane Smith finds out the truth, with multiple Doctors conferring over a clue, Dr. Martha Jones meets Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Checking this chapter out again on Fanfiction.net, I saw this note: 'It's late, I'm tired, but I loved Asylum of the Daleks. Onwards and forwards, mates!' So this is about when I wrote this chapter, start of Series 7. And Series 7 would have more of an effect on later chapters...

"Doctors?" Barbara said, slightly woozy as she lied back on the chair in the TARDIS.

"Yes, that's right, Barbara. But it's going to be fine, you're safe now. You're inside the TARDIS," Sarah Jane murmured, although she wasn't exactly sure. She had definitely been in more dangerous situations with the Doctor, traveling along with him inside his TARDIS, than she had ever been before or since. Definitely since, she thought to herself as she glanced around another new console room of the TARDIS, the second in a year. Barbara moaned softly to herself and rolled over.

Sarah Jane Smith was getting tired of waiting. It didn't take two Doctors to fetch one glass of water, which meant that something else was going on here. "You just stay here a moment, Barbara. I'm just going to go see what's wrong here," Sarah Jane said, patting her older friend on the shoulder before she stood up, and followed after them into the interior. Barbara rubbed her head into the chair's headrest and smacked her lips as she dreamed.

It didn't take too long to find them in the kitchen, but Sarah Jane held back a moment to listen to their conversation from the hallway. She didn't mean to eavesdrop on them, but sometimes her investigative reporting instincts were too strong for her to overrule, and right now she needed to find out the truth of the situation here. The Tenth Doctor in the pinstripe suit, as she thought of him now, was speaking to 11, who was turned away from her.

"Thanks for reminding me. Sometimes I wish I could let them forget." 10 said to himself, setting his empty tea cup down. "I was still thinking through all of this with Barbara when Martha Jones left, and then-the Titanic happened, and Astrid Peth...I had to remember something good that I had done, in some small way," 10 said, staring off into the middle distance. "Something that had lasted, something untainted by-Barbara. My mind jumped immediately to Barbara. I could not forget that." He said. "I had to see her, alive and well again, one of my oldest and dearest friends, to remind myself why I still do what I do." He said.

Sarah Jane Smith frowned, slightly worried. He had indeed been deeply affected by the Time War, and it was only getting worse. If he had lost somebody onboard the Titanic, this Astrid Peth, then he would indeed be lost, directionless without any place to go. As far as she knew, the Doctor had never lost anybody that had traveled with him onboard the TARDIS, in the sense that they had never died. Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith, she had learned from Captain Jack Harkness and Martha Jones, were apparently alive and well, albeit in another dimension that he could never reach. Even when millions died around them, the Doctor never lost anybody personal to him, but now—the Time Lords, Astrid Peth…how many more would be lost forever before too long?

"I know exactly what you mean." 11 confessed. "That's why I saw Sarah Jane Smith this morning, before I-I had to see her again." He said.

"Why?" 10 asked, staring at 11. (Same question that Sarah Jane Smith had, although she felt that it was more personal to her. She bit her lip and held her breath in, hoping that they wouldn't sense that she was here, and stop talking. The Doctor had a very good periphery sense, as she recalled, although it might be awhile before he noticed.)

"It's not for awhile yet." 11 muttered, sipping the last of his tea and setting the cup down. "You don't have to worry about it just now." (Was he speaking to her? Did he know that she was here?)

"Do you want me to-I confessed everything to you," Ten said, "I deserve to get at least one hint." (He didn't know. That was a relief. He would stop talking.)

"It's about both of us." 11 said. (He sounded reluctant to confess, though he had not stopped talking.)

"Both of you?" Ten said. (Now he sounded concerned.)

"Facing the unknown." 11 said. (This was serious, she thought to herself. Death? Did he actually mean death? For both of them? Not now, but—Sarah Jane Smith grimaced to herself, and looked away. When? Why? She had so many questions, and no answers. She didn't want any answers. It was better that she didn't know, in a way, and yet she did know. Why did she have to hear this? Why did she have to face death? Her son Luke. Her friends. Oh, her friends.)

"The-oh." Ten said, looking down.

"I told you too much." 11 said.

"That you did." 10 said.

Sarah Jane Smith knocked before she could hear too much more, and then tried to act cheery and unsuspicious of her impeding death, but the Tenth Doctor was watching her. And the Eleventh Doctor knew too much. They returned to Barbara, who received the glass of water, and slowly revived from her shock.

The Eleventh and Tenth Doctors started to run around the console, heading somewhere else, but Sarah Jane Smith crouched by Barbara's side, not paying attention to anything else about her. Her senses were dull and numb as she considered the implications of what she had just heard. It did not sound good to her.

"Sarah Jane? Are you okay?" Barbara said, staring at her.

"I'm fine, really I am." Sarah Jane tried to smile, though she could not muster up a rousing good one. "You just rest. Feeling better?" She asked.

"Yes, a little bit. I just have to get used to it." Barbara sighed. "Those poor people." She murmured to herself, thinking of that commuter train.

The Eleventh Doctor ran to the TARDIS doors, and opened them up. "Hello! I'm the Eleventh, by the way." He said.

"Wait for me!" Tenth cried, adjusting a few of the controls before coming after him.

"Where are we?" Barbara said, turning her head around.

"Eleventh! But I'm-Third-" They heard a muffled voice say outside of the TARDIS.

"I suppose we're picking up more passengers." Sarah Jane remarked. Another Doctor, but this one—Third?—sounded familiar to her…her first Doctor? She gasped. Her first Doctor! She couldn't believe it! She smiled to herself. She could remember it just like it was yesterday, when she was so young and carefree. Oh, her first Doctor was just outside, yet she couldn't see him like this. She was so old, and—dead, or close to dead.

"You seem to be aging backwards, Benjamin Button times twenty." They heard a familiar voice say. "You're so vain, that song probably was written about you."

"Captain Jack?" Barbara said, turning her head. "We must be in a conundrum for them to consider calling a military man like him for assistance."

"A military man…" Sarah Jane Smith murmured to herself. "Just what we need."

"She wishes." The Eleventh Doctor muttered to himself.

"Hello, Jack!" The Tenth Doctor said as he went outside.

"Doctor! My Doctor!" Jack cried. "My dream come true at last, I'm surrounded in a sea of Doctors! Although I never imagined it would be like this." He remarked.

"Never imagined it would be like this either." Third muttered.

"I remember this part." The Eleventh Doctor said to himself.

"What's so funny?" Barbara asked.

"Nothing, nothing." Sarah Jane Smith said, smiling and stifling a laugh.

"Are you hurt badly?" The Tenth Doctor asked.

"Ouch. Yes." Jack said. "Let's go inside so I can die in the TARDIS."

With that, the three Doctors-Third, Tenth, and Eleventh-helped Captain Jack inside. Sarah Jane smiled, and stood up at the sight of her first Doctor.

"Barbara! Sarah Jane! Hello! Isn't this fun?" Captain Jack called as the Third Doctor looked up.

"My dear Sarah Jane Smith," The Third Doctor said, letting go of Captain Jack Harkness and opening up his arms for Sarah Jane to run into them for a big hug. It was like coming home again.

Ten and Eleven smiled to themselves, and helped Jack up to the console. Barbara moved aside and then stood up so that Jack could have the chair. "Doctor! You've redecorated!" Captain Jack coughed up some blood. "Looks shinier!" He said.

"Is he going to be all right?" Barbara asked.

"He'll be fine, once he's died and revived again." The Tenth Doctor said. "Captain Jack can do that, die and revive again, have I mentioned that before?" He asked. "He is an impossible man, a solid fact in the universe that doesn't—well, not really—change." He said, scratching the back of his head.

"He does change, I'll grant you that, although it does take him some time." The Eleventh Doctor remarked.

"And then he looks all blobby-wobbly." The Tenth Doctor grinned, with Eleven smiling as well.

"Just when I thought I could get used to anything at this point." Barbara remarked, staring down at the dying Jack, "You bring this to me." She murmured, shaking her head.

"You get used to it." The Tenth Doctor grimaced as Jack died. Barbara looked away and grimaced as well.

"What's wrong, Sarah Jane Smith?" The Third Doctor asked, sensing her racing heartbeat.

"Nothing, nothing is the matter," Sarah Jane sniffed, looking up at him. "I'm just so glad to see you." She said, wiping away her tears.

The Tenth and Eleventh Doctors glanced at each other in fear and worry before they went back to the controls of the TARDIS. "Third, have you brought us anything?" The Eleventh Doctor asked, flipping some controls as they dematerialized from wherever they were before.

"Yes, at the cost of Raieat's life, which cannot be so easily replaced." The Third Doctor muttered, turning away from Sarah Jane Smith for a moment. The two women were silent in their despair. He reached into the pocket of his velvet coat, and handed a piece of paper to the Eleventh Doctor. The Tenth Doctor put on his glasses, and joined his selves in perusing the note.

"'Circle in red and cross the line to begin with,'" The Tenth Doctor read.

"'Arch the lines above and below the cross, remember to dot the I,'" The Eleventh Doctor murmured.

"'Number the star, six the figure, where is the third, double that to a point.'" The Third Doctor read, and then shook his head. "It's all nonsense, complete and absolute utter nonsense." The Third Doctor said, turning away.

"What does it mean?" Sarah Jane asked, unable to believe that it was utter nonsense.

Captain Jack gasped, revived from death, and Barbara squealed.

"I never understood the third." The Tenth Doctor said.

"What is wrong with that?" The Third Doctor asked.

"Circle in red." The Eleventh Doctor muttered. "That always troubled me for some reason. I suppose it's the color red." He said.

"What's wrong with that?" The Third Doctor repeated, pointing at his velvet jacket.

"Nothing, nothing is the matter with it," Both Ten and Eleven said, but they appeared to be concentrating on something else.

"It's a symbol." Captain Jack said, as Barbara backed away from him. "Didn't they explain my immortality to you?" Captain Jack asked Barbara.

"They did, but I didn't believe-" She gasped and shook her head. "You are an impossible man." She said.

"I agree." Sarah Jane said, staring.

"I know. Sometimes it's hard being me." He said, crossing his arms behind his head. "But sometimes I like it." Captain Jack shrugged. "It's just the way I roll." He said with a grin. "How are you, Barbara?" He asked.

"Good. Fine." She managed to say. The Doctor still seemed distracted, thinking.

"That's just what I want to hear, you gorgeous angel." He smiled. "You, too, my beautiful Sarah Jane Smith. How about we all get married?" He asked. Sarah Jane and Barbara both laughed.

"Come again?" The Third Doctor gaped at him.

"I know this wonderful planet-"

"Not now, Jack. Later." The Eleventh Doctor said, reaching for a sketch pad.

"Later?" The Tenth Doctor gaped at him.

"It's just to shut him up." The Eleventh Doctor grinned as he sketched out the symbol: a circle in red, two lines crossing each other in the middle of the circle, with triangles arching above and below the crossed lines. It made one star.

"There is no need to shut me up, Doctors, I am shutting up." Jack remarked. "If you agree-"

"Later!" They all shouted.

"I know it's a symbol, Jack. The Theologians of the 4th Quarter use this symbol for their operations." The Eleventh Doctor murmured. "One star, six the figure, two from a third, and then four is double two."

"Come again?" Jack asked.

"It's how you get in," The Tenth Doctor said, "This symbol and the poem is the entry key for their base of operations and ceremonies." He grabbed the paper from Eleven, and showed it to the Third Doctor. "Learn it well. You're going to have to use it, someday." He said.

"When?" The Third Doctor said, grasping the piece of paper and staring at it.

"Soon." The Eleventh Doctor murmured, staring at Third as Ten, arms crossed, slowly nodded. Barbara, Sarah Jane, and Jack all shivered for no apparent reason. It just seemed cold.

* * *

Dr. Martha Jones sat back in a stiff plastic chair, finger twirling a strand of black hair as her other hand tapped a pen against the clipboard on her lap, with several pieces of paper clamped down onto it. "This shouldn't be so hard," She muttered to herself, shaking her head. "I should know how to answer this." She had taken dozens of exams in her life, faced mental, spiritual, emotional and physical trials beyond belief for most people, and here she was, stumped by a simple question.

'Previous Work Experience' spoke volumes about who you were, and what you had done to be considered for employment by a firm or organization. Most people could write down a simple resume here, listing previous employers and the work that they had done on behalf of these organizations. She imagined that many of the people applying for this job could count on endorsements and references from the U.N., international health organizations, armies, navies, and air forces from around the world, perhaps even space programs.

She had only one or two references, General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart and a Royal Hope Hospital administrator who had taken over Mr. Stoker's duties, and only one official former employer in Royal Hope Hospital, although it was as a student doctor. She had just recently passed the final exam to receive her title, and now here she was, competing against dozens of applicants with years of practice and experience behind their titles for a prestigious spot with UNIT. She couldn't compete against them in a professional standard, despite one ringing endorsement of her character.

However, she suspected that none of them had ever tangled with Daleks, the Master, Weeping Angels or the Family of Blood, along with dozens of other madmen, monsters, and the like. She could not say for sure, considering how he traveled around, but she suspected that none of them had ever met and ran alongside the Doctor. That alone had to be worth something, but she was not sure if she could include all of that information under 'Previous Work Experience'.

For one thing, there was not enough room to include all of her experiences with that Time Lord. For another, apparently knowledge of the Doctor was restricted even within the confines of a secretive organization like UNIT, so that only a few dozen people knew of his true nature, and how he had saved the world so many times in the past and future. She could not write down too much about him, in case anyone outside of clearance got ahold of this form-then she definitely would not get this job. Thirdly, she did not know for sure if she could count everything that she had done during the Year That Never Was if it did not happen, and so that affected a large part of her resume.

Finally, was it truly 'work experience'? It definitely was an experience in which she had gained a lot of knowledge that required a lot of work and effort on her part, but it wasn't traditional employment nor was it an internship of any kind, apart from some sporadic training, minor medical practice, and the job that she had performed during The Year That Never Was. She couldn't count the Year That Never Was, though, and so that limited her even more. She was left with a blank space then, and hardly anything to fill it up with on her form.

Perhaps it was the early morning hour sapping her energy, and making her feel groggy. Perhaps it was the listless feeling she had been getting lately, ever since returning from traveling with the Doctor. All of that time, energy, and effort wasted on him, the pain and anguish she had felt, the loathing and the fear, the millions of people that had been killed. (Granted, most of them had been saved when time was reversed, but they had still died before, and what about the others that had died across the universe, in time and space before the Year That Never Was? They were still dead.)

But still, she had seen so much, and she was reluctant to let it go. She had to leave him for her own sake, before she died, before madness claimed her, before someone else she loved died, but she could not let him go, not completely. She could not really forget everything that had happened to her, because of him. What could compare to that, really? She just had to find her own way—alone, she supposed-without a guide and without a map. She had done it once or twice before, she could do it again. And she would succeed, just like then.

Dr. Martha Jones had started to write a little down on the piece of paper, but then she heard a door open down the hallway. She froze, fearing that her name was about to be called out for the interview portion of this job application to begin, but instead, she heard a man shouting, "Who do you think you are, tossing people about everywhere, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!" He spoke with a Scottish accent. "This organization has become a shambles of what it once was, a mess heap of old, grandiose ideals! I demand to speak to one of your superiors!" He cried.

She turned around, and stared at the strange little man standing in the hallway, wearing a panama hat and waving an umbrella about with a red question mark as its handle. He appeared to be somewhere between the age of 40 and 69, with dark hair edging the brim of his hat and his ears. She was slightly arrested by his appearance, as he wore an off-white safari style jacket with a paisley red scarf worn under its lapels, (she thought she saw a fob watch attached to one lapel, reminding her of the Master for a moment) matching tie, a pullover with red question marks and green zigzags over a white shirt, tweed plaid trousers, and brogues.

He was exceedingly strange, someone who definitely didn't belong here, and she wondered how he had managed to get into UNIT's London headquarters in the first place. Who would have given him the security badge or the clearance? Probably somebody who didn't have a clear idea of who he was.

"I'm sorry, sir," The woman addressing him said, "No one is available at the moment. Please come back another day." Martha Jones knew she meant 'don't you ever come back again, you nutter,' and Martha half-agreed with her, though she tried not to judge other people. He might just have some bad fashion taste.

"What? Another day? I can't wait another day, this won't wait another day, not until somebody gets off of their arses to go check it out!" He cried. "This is happening right here and right now, and nobody will do anything about it! London is in danger, the whole world is in danger, and you blithering idiots won't do a thing about it!"

Martha sat up a little straighter, paying attention to the man a little bit more. The threat he implied and the urgency that went along with his manner might be exaggerated or nonexistent, but still, part of her knew, the part of her that had traveled with the Doctor, and had faced all kinds of threats, that she had to take it seriously. He seemed to be taking it seriously. London, and the whole world in trouble? The danger could be real if he was telling the truth, and more often than not, the danger had been real when she was traveling with the Doctor.

"Please settle down, sir, or I will call security." The other lady said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, call security, see if I care," The older man said, brushing her off, "And while you're at it, call your superiors! We're in a crisis here, don't you people realize that?"

The lady huffed and turned around, slamming the door in his face. "Why, in the old days, you could expect that people would take seriously a threat of this magnitude, but you all are too lazy, too short-sighted, or too ignorant to appreciate the situation." The older man said, huffing at the closed door now. "Something rotten in the state of Denmark, I suppose! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, but you aren't, are you? Nincompoops." He muttered the last to himself.

He turned around, the umbrella now resting upon his shoulder, and finally noticed Dr. Martha Jones, sitting in the hallway and staring at him. "Sorry. Not you, my dear." He smiled to himself. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Applying for a job." She said, holding up the clipboard with the papers clamped upon it. She smiled a little bit. She couldn't help it, for despite his ranting and raving, his temperament, he had a nice smile, and she believed that he could be a gentleman when he wanted to be, and was not in such a foul mood.

"Oh." He said, his smile disappearing, replaced with a short frown. She missed that smile already. "Well, don't. UNIT is not what it used to be these days. These people are just interested in busting up trouble that turns up in their own front yards with a big, red, flashing sign that says 'Come find me, come find me'." He sighed. "Go apply someplace else." He turned about, but then he paused. "What position were you applying for?" He asked.

"Medical officer." She said, not looking up at him. She wasn't sure she wanted to encourage him any further.

"Really? A doctor? I'm a bit of a doctor myself." He said. "The Doctor, in point of fact."

"The Doctor?" She said, staring up at him.

"The Doctor. One of a kind." He said, smiling. He almost reminded her of Rowan Atkinson.

"You can't be." She said, shaking her head. "I've seen-" She stopped, realizing she might have spoken too much.

"Seen what, exactly?" The Seventh Doctor said, raising an eyebrow as he stared at her now.

"Never mind." She said, looking away. She couldn't trust him.

"Come, come, Miss. Martha Jones, I would like to know. Or should I say Dr. Jones?" The Seventh Doctor said, sitting down in a plastic chair next to her.

"How did you know my name?" Martha said, staring at him now. "Did you see it on-" She covered up her papers.

"Oh, I've forgotten your name once or twice now, because it's been awhile since I first heard it, but I didn't read it just now." He said, studying her. "And there may even come a time when I forget your name completely, possibly your appearance as well, so that when you meet me for the first time, it's like I met you for the first time as well. Which technically, considering the way that I first met you, is close to the truth, but it's not really the truth." He smiled at her. "You and I have met before, the first time for me, but it hasn't happened for you yet." He said. "This is going to be so fun."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, slightly confused, although even more intrigued than she was before.

"You'll see. A matter of time and space, which reminds me," He said, taking out his fob watch and opening it up to study. "I'm afraid that it's almost time for us to catch our ride. I hate it when we are late. You must delay your job interview for now, for me." He snapped shut the fob watch. "For all of us, I suppose I should say, although it does sound a bit egotistical." He muttered.

"What are-I can't do that," Martha Jones said, shaking her head. "This job interview is very important to me, it could possibly be the start of my whole career, and I can't possibly abandon it. You are not making a whole lot of sense to me, and I am not going anywhere with you until you prove to me that you are correct."

"Come on now, Martha Jones. Ace wasn't this much trouble for me." He muttered to himself as he stood. "You are important to us, Dr. Martha Jones, and we can't do this without you. We need a medical expert at this time of crisis, and not just anyone can handle this job, but you. You are the girl who walked the planet Earth, after all, although I don't really know what that means. I just heard him say it about a couple hundred years ago." He said, pointing. "So are you coming with us or not?" He asked.

Martha Jones opened her mouth, about to speak, when she heard a familiar sound; the sound of the TARDIS materializing…Martha stood up, staring as the TARDIS appeared in the middle of the UNIT hallway. The wind from its sudden appearance blew away the papers that had been clamped onto her clipboard, scattering them about. No one opened their office doors to check out what was going on here. Were the people here in UNIT truly blind and deaf to what was going on outside of their offices?

The TARDIS was bluer than she remembered it; the door and the sign were different, the shape was different as well. This was not her TARDIS, not the Doctor's TARDIS as she remembered it, but it was-the police telephone box, and everything else that she felt, the chill in the air, the smell of its energy, the presence, made her feel like this had to be the same TARDIS. The Seventh Doctor held down his hat and grimaced.

"I always hate it when somebody else is driving," He muttered to himself. "They always seem to make it more difficult than it really is." He checked his watch again. "We are almost late. We need to pick up the pace!" He said, striding forward towards the TARDIS with his umbrella swinging.

Dr. Martha Jones stood up, and followed after him, as the TARDIS doors opened. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I just noticed that I was being inconsistent with my numerical styles. Oh well, I was having a rough time pacing out character responses, who would say what and having characters talk in order or randomly. But I did have fun with Jack, the Seven and Martha team-up, and how Eleven and Ten were fraternal twins separated at birth with Third a little out of his depth. Blobbly-wobbly Face of Boe!


	16. Our Man in London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Polly meet Five and Sabalom Glitz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the original post, I wrote this just before Amy and Rory left. I had not really seen Sabalom Glitz in action, though, when I originally wrote this. (I may have just seen the first episode of Dragonfire online at the time, and I didn't really give it a good chance. I think I was having trouble with the online video. I gave it a better chance later, and it's actually good. I also saw Trial of a Time Lord later, which is half good, half bad, ugh. In that order, basically, with some ups and downs.)

"She's a fine looking woman, for an old human." The Master said with a laugh, patting him on the back as he led him up into the Valiant.

Ben wanted to punch him in the nose for that insult. He hated that smile, that sneer, the mad Time Lord who had control over the whole world, and had killed so many, and would continue to kill so many, no matter who got in his way. And all he could say was, "Yes, Master," like a good servant, like a puppy dog, like a slave.

Polly was dancing, turning slowly around and around in a circle, all alone in the middle of a ballroom floor, crying soundlessly as the people glared coldly at her. "It hurts, Ben, it really hurts." She said, her voice echoing in his head as she cried. "I can't keep up, Ben, I'm getting too old for this." She said. "I think they want to kill us like this, slow and steady…I'm cold." She said, falling upon the floor. "I'm tired, Ben." She said, closing her eyes.

"Polly!" He cried.

"My agents had discovered the secret base of the rebel alliance run by our dear old friend Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart," The Master said, grinning down at the poppet-sized Doctor, the wizened doll, "who won't be bothering us anymore." And the Doctor was helpless to stop his nemesis, helpless to stop anything from happening. The Doctor was useless.

"Ben? Ben? Is something bothering you?" Polly asked, waving her hand in front of her husband, hunched over in his chair with his chin resting on his hand, staring off into the distance at the tabletop. "Earth to Ben, come in, Admiral Ben," She said.

"What? What is it?" He asked, straightening and looking up at her. "Is something wrong?" He asked, attentive to her needs. He had to take care of her, his duchess, and protect her at all costs.

"You. You are what's wrong," She said, shaking her head. "You've been distracted and moody for weeks now, ever since you wound up on that flying aircraft carrier The Valiant. You won't even explain to me how you got up there. You vanished in a flash right in front of me, and then a few minutes later, you called me to tell me where and how to pick you up."

"It felt like a year." He muttered to himself, not loud enough for her to hear. He had lived through it all, the Year That Never Was, even though so many people had not. It wasn't that long ago that he had been standing on the helm of the Valiant, flying over Hell with the Master just behind him, but he had managed to hold it all together inside himself, because he knew that this was real.

This was happening, there was no way to control it, no way to reverse what had happened and all that he could do was just survive, for himself and for Polly. The Doctor couldn't save them, the Doctor was helpless in the same situation, the Doctor couldn't be depended upon and so he just had to continue because there was nothing else to be done. Nothing.

And then the whole thing had reversed, thanks to the Doctor and his friends, and Admiral Benjamin Jackson had been caught in the middle—able to remember the Year That Never Was, and yet be faced with the impossibility that it had not. The Year That Never Was, indeed, was just that, and his memories of it—they would fade with time, he feared, erased completely because they had not happened, and yet they had, and so he had to face derangement of a paradoxical sort. His mind holding onto and focusing upon The Year That Never Was, dwelling upon its horrors, and yet its nonexistence would pierce through, and win out in the end, taking away part of his life. A horrible part, yes, yet nonetheless, it was still there.

"You need to tell me what happened to you. It's plaguing you, Ben, I can tell." She said. "It will eat you up inside. Tell me what happened."

Ben opened up his mouth to respond, but then he was distracted by something else, his eyes drawn to a corner of the eating area previously unnoticed by himself. For once, Admiral Benjamin Jackson and his wife Polly had decided to go out for breakfast, sitting outside a cafe on this lovely late spring/early summer day, eating and enjoying themselves, before Benjamin became lost in his daydreams, if you could call them that—more like daymares.

In the corner, next to an alleyway and close to the café window, were two strangers he had never seen before. Not that London wasn't full of strangers, of course, people came from everyone to live in London or visit it, but these fellows seemed stranger than others. One was a nondescript fellow in his late thirties or early forties dressed in raggedy clothes and a long coat, with slightly curly, frizzy brown hair in pompadour style and a cowlick, not to mention a scraggly beard, mustache, and hint of a goatee. He was slurping down his coffee as fast as he could, chewing greedily in between slurps, and he was also whispering, talking softly and excitedly in between this activity to his partner, full of life, energy, and definite cockiness. He might have been homeless and insane, but he seemed too vigorous for that.

Ben, however, was struck most by the person seated across from the homeless, excited man. The person seated across from the homeless man was not as excited. Languidly he sipped a cup of tea, and slowly nodded as he listened to his partner, but didn't say anything in reply. He was just thinking, that was all, or so it seemed. He frowned deeply to himself, and moodily stirred his cup of tea.

He was dressed in an old-fashioned Edwardian cricket outfit, with a cream-colored frock coat lined in red, red and cream striped trousers, plimsoll shoes, a cream pullover with red edging, and a white shirt. He had blond, no, flaxen hair, and he looked quite debonair, or quite old and confused, depending on your view, with his Panama hat stuck tightly on his head. Even though he could not have been more than 30 years old, possibly younger, he seemed ancient, and not of this world. He seemed to be just taking it all in, observing everyone and everything around him until he decided to act. For a moment, Ben thought the flaxen-haired man looked up at him, but then the flaxen-haired man looked away.

"Doctor." Ben said, as he suddenly realized who it was.

"What was that?" Polly asked, staring at Ben, full of concern. More and more, it felt like she was losing her husband to whatever troubles or distractions plagued him. He stared off into space more often now, seeing something that wasn't there, and it disturbed her greatly. She didn't want to lose him now, but as they got older, she knew that she would have to face that possibility someday.

"The Doctor. The Brigadier described the Doctor that he had met, traveling along with Tegan, and Nyssa, then Turlough," Ben said, turning back to Polly, lowering his voice so that the Time Lord wouldn't hear him. "And then—it's him, over there, the man in the Panama hat." He indicated towards a table behind her.

"Are you sure?" She asked, about to turn around.

"Don't look. Positive." Ben said, lowering his head as he tried to seem inconspicuous. The Doctor must have noticed them, though. He probably would recognize them.

"Oh, Ben." Polly sighed, not quite believing him, but she decided to humor him nonetheless. "Shouldn't we say hello to him? Ask him how he is?" Polly asked, about to get up. "Possibly ask if-"

"No." Ben hissed. "I am not going over there and speaking to him," He insisted. "I don't want to."

"But Ben-" Polly gasped. "You were the one who wanted to join the club in the first place!" She insisted. "The coffee shop club with all of the Doctor's former assistants and companions—you were the one who convinced me to join. You always said that we should find the Doctor, tell him how we were, and say hello-"

"No, I-" Ben groaned. "I'm not sure anymore. I'm not convinced that this was the best course of action, the right thing to do. Remember all of the horrors we went through because of him?" He asked.

"But we met because of him." Polly said softly. "We saw such wonderful things together as well. All of the friends we made, Jamie, the coffee shop—we can't forget about them as well."

"I know." Ben sighed, gazing down at the table. "I know." He whispered.

For a few moments they were silent and still, with breakfast untouched before them. Polly reached over to pat Ben on the shoulder, and rub his arm, trying to get him to smile, as she heard footsteps coming over in their direction. She turned around, and Ben looked up, as the man in the Panama hat and the homeless stranger approached them. Ben grimaced to himself and Polly's breath caught in her throat.

She recognized the Panama hat man, not just based on the description the Brigadier had given them of the 'Fifth' Doctor, but also on the way he moved, the look he had in his eyes, even the way he held himself—it reminded her of the old man they had first met and known as the Doctor, before he changed into the short, slightly rotund, dark-haired and suspendered fellow that they had also recognized as the Doctor. She couldn't believe it, even though Ben had told her, but now that she saw this man in front of her—she recognized him nonetheless.

"Hello, gentleman, lady," The Fifth Doctor said, bowing his head and tipping his hat to both of them as he approached the 'older' couple. His companion hung off to the side, not really interested in the conversation. "I was wondering if-" The Doctor started to say.

"Doctor!" Polly cried.

The Doctor stopped, staring at them. "How did you recognize me?" He asked, slightly off-put.

"No one can forget about you." The homeless stranger muttered. The Doctor ignored him.

"We have a mutual friend, the Brigadier, who told us what you looked like, in your various forms." Ben remarked subduedly, still not looking up at him.

"The Brigadier? What is that?" The homeless stranger asked, on the alert. "Is that some kind of officer?"

"Something like that, but you need not worry about him right now." The Fifth Doctor told his friend. "That's right, the coffee shop, I remember." The Fifth Doctor remarked, nodding to himself.

"What? You know about us?" Polly asked, staring at him. "Then why haven't you visited us?"

"It was awhile ago that I found out about the coffee shop," The Fifth Doctor remarked, "I was traveling by myself, before I met Leela and then Romana and after Sarah Jane Smith left-anyway," The Doctor said, continuing, "I was searching for something, and a ginger-haired woman appeared, she was searching for the coffee shop, where she hoped to meet all of you. She had a list of your online names—Yetaxa, Duchess, even K9Handler, although I had not met K9 yet and didn't know that I would—anyway," The Fifth Doctor said, continuing, "I had the list of names, I had the location of that coffee shop on the piece of paper, but then I lost the paper in the midst of—the excitement." He managed to say. "I forgot where it was located, and I got distracted with some other concerns, but I really did mean to visit you all."

"You do have a very strange life, Doctor." The homeless stranger remarked.

"You do mean to have some good intentions, don't you, Doctor, in the hustle and bustle of it all, but they get lost, don't they?" Ben asked, as the others turned around to stare at him.

"Ben, what is the matter with you?" Polly asked.

Ben lifted his head, finally gathering the nerve to speak out against the Doctor. "You try to help out, you try to show other people compassion and remorse, even if these other people are violent and merciless, but these feelings get you nowhere, Doctor. You become trapped in your own bloody sentiments." Ben said, staring at him. "You become trapped, and you lose what is more important. You have innocent blood on your hands."

"Who told you that?" The Doctor asked, staring at Ben.

"What's with him?" The homeless stranger asked, edging away from the older man. "What's his problem?"

"I don't know." Polly whispered, afraid.

"I witnessed it." Ben said simply.

The Doctor paused. "It hasn't happened yet?" He asked.

"I witnessed it. It did happen, or it should have happened, but then it never did, and it is your future-" Ben said, then paused and shook his head. "I think. It is all very confusing." He muttered.

"Is he some kind of nutter?" The homeless stranger asked hopefully.

"No, he is not." Both Polly and the Fifth Doctor said, glaring at the homeless stranger. The homeless stranger shriveled up underneath their glares.

"Right then." The Fifth Doctor said, glancing at Ben before he continued, "I should probably introduce—Sabalom Glitz." He said, motioning to the homeless-looking fellow. "He is a former and future acquaintance of mine, apparently." The Fifth Doctor said, rolling his eyes. "I don't see how I could gotten mixed up with him, but apparently-"

"Don't talk about me like I am not here." Sabalom said, glaring at the Doctor. "I should never have gotten involved with you Time Lords, you or the Master."

"What?" Ben cried, pushing his chair back and standing up. "You know the Master?" He cried, staring at Sabalom.

"Sort of. Kind of. I had some shady dealings with him, I must admit, that went a bit sour, even for me." Sabalom admitted, staring at Ben. "I met the Doctor—not this Doctor, but another Doctor, in the midst of all that. I should have sworn off Time Lords." He muttered.

"Is that your problem, Ben?" The Fifth Doctor asked, staring at him. "You met the Master?"

"I think you can say that." Ben said.

"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry." The Fifth Doctor said.

"You always say that." Ben remarked.

"Are you okay?" Polly asked her husband.

Ben sighed. "I suppose so. I'm fine, for now." He nodded, glancing at his wife and patting her on the shoulder. "So what is he doing here?" He asked the Doctor, nodding towards Glitz.

"He is an informer, at times." The Doctor said, nodding. "He gave me some information about a cult that has established itself here, the Theologians of the 4th Quarter. They believe that time is ending soon, that we are in the final quarter of the universe's time. They believe that, in order to preserve themselves and others from the end of the universe, they have to change ourselves." The Doctor grimaced. "Sabalom has just confirmed to me that they are in league with the Cybermen."

"What?" Ben and Polly cried, staring at him and Sabalom.

"Don't look at me, I'm just relaying the news." Sabalom said.

"How can anyone associate themselves with Cybermen?" Polly asked.

"The Theologians have done just that." The Doctor confirmed. "They are helping the Cybermen harvest humans at the most opportune times, namely in the heart of a disaster, to replenish their forces." He said. "One second just before a train or an airplane explodes, leaving little to no trace of human remains, the Cybermen appear, and pick out those still strong enough to be converted. They hope to create an invasion force in a matter of months."

Ben turned away to swallow up the vomit that threatened to come out of him. "That is horrible," was all Polly could say, gasping.

"I know." The Doctor said, glancing down. "The Cybermen have a large contingent of these victims, ready for harvesting, at a warehouse by the Thames, not far from here."

"Right now?" Polly asked, staring at him.

"Right now," The Doctor said, nodding.

"We have to save them." Ben said, striding towards the Doctor. "What are you doing here, if you know where they are, and-"

"Waiting for reinforcement." The Doctor said. "It is a large force of Cybermen and Theologians, almost ready to advance, and the fallout from this encounter may be great. Ben," He said, turning to the old human, "Do you have contacts still with the Royal Navy?"

"I am an admiral," Ben remarked, "Almost retired, but I still have some strings I can pull. There is a ship in the Thames." He said.

"La-di-da." Sabalom muttered. "You sure have some strange friends, Doctor."

The Doctor reached into his cream-colored frock coat, and pulled out a sheet of paper, lying it out on the table Ben and Polly had been eating at. "These are the coordinates for the warehouse where the Cybermen, their victims, and a branch of the Theologians are located. I want you to get as many personnel and Royal Marines as you can to these coordinates." He said.

"You are asking me to use force?" Ben remarked, glancing up at him.

"I am willing in this instance." The Doctor said. Polly gasped, as Sabalom watched, slightly interested in this affair.

"I will call everyone I can," Ben said, taking the sheet of paper and pulling out his mobile phone.

"Good man. I have to go soon," The Fifth Doctor said, checking his watch. "Sabalom and I are going to be picked up soon. Polly, care to join us?" He asked the woman, slightly anxious.

"What about Ben?" Polly asked, staring at her husband.

Ben hesitated, glancing at the Doctor. "I can't go." He said, realizing what was happening here. "I have to stay here, call as many people as I can, and organize the search and rescue effort with the Royal Navy. It will take a lot of time to set this all up, yet it has to be done as soon as possible. I don't expect I will get the chance to do all of this if I go with the Doctor. He needs me to stay here," He told his wife, "And help him in this manner. I will be of greater help to him here."

"Coward." Sabalom muttered.

"I will appreciate it very much." The Doctor remarked, glaring at Glitz.

In a way, Ben was sort of relieved. It gave him the excuse to stay behind when he didn't want to go, he didn't want to get involved in another one of the Doctor's dangerous adventures. He remembered the Master. "Please, Polly, stay with me." He begged his wife. "It's far too dangerous, where the Doctor is going. He's going to be in the heart of the action. You can observe it all here, safe and sound, you won't get hurt." He told her.

"He's right, you know." The Doctor remarked to Polly. "You would be far safer."

Polly hesitated, staring at her husband, and then glanced at the Doctor. "He asked for me, Ben." She told her husband. "He asked for me, and I-I have to go. I feel like going. Just for one last adventure."

Glitz rolled his eyes, and almost made a gagging sound, until the Doctor elbowed him slightly.

"My duchess," Ben said, a sob caught in his throat. "All right, I will-I will let you go. Promise to come back to me, safe and sound?"

"I promise, Ben." Polly said, smiling as she kissed Ben. "I love you very much, sailor boy."

"I love you too, duchess." Ben whispered as they heard the familiar sound of a TARDIS materializing, coming from the direction of an alleyway.

"What is-?" Ben asked, staring up. Sabalom and Polly also looked confused.

"Did I forget to mention that I won't be the only Doctor on this trip?" The Fifth Doctor remarked. "There will be at least four other Doctors, if not more."

"Four Doctors?" Sabalom cried, horror-struck. "Can't you just leave me behind?"

"Sorry, Sabalom, but no. Plus Sarah Jane Smith, Barbara Wright Chesteron, Captain Jack Harkness, and Dr. Martha Jones." The Fifth Doctor said. "We will all be traveling together, for this adventure."

"Perhaps I should-" Sabalom started to say, but Five grabbed onto him.

"You are needed, Sabalom Glitz, and you are not getting away that easily." The Doctor insisted, not letting go. Sabalom tried to tug away from him, but the Doctor was stronger than he looked.

"So you all will keep Polly safe?" Ben asked, staring at Five. He was even more relieved to hear this bit of good news.

"As safe as she can be," Five said, tipping his hat to Ben with one as the other hand gripped Sabalom. "See you soon, Ben. In perhaps an hour or two, for you." He said, dragging away Glitz towards the TARDIS.

"Good-bye, Ben." Polly said, waving good-bye as she followed after them.

"Good-bye, my dear." Ben sighed, as he watched her go, and then heard the TARDIS dematerialized. He then checked the coordinates, and started calling every number he could think of. The ship would be dispatched to the coordinates, fully armed and with a full company of Royal Marines and other personnel. He then asked for a vehicle to be sent to the café, so that he could join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was also around this time that I started thinking about writing a sequel to this, but I didn't get around to that until much later and I'm still working on that sequel.


	17. TARDIS Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the TARDIS, Doctors and companions meet and discuss.

"Welcome, welcome, Martha!" The young brown-haired stranger with a bowtie cried as he stumbled out of the TARDIS, and a strange TARDIS it was at that, with what she could see of the interior, a brilliant gold and orange with clear plastic or glass floors. He proceeded to shake her hand vigorously, and then hug her, which startled her. "Sorry that we're a little late." He told the other Doctor.

"Not at all. It's our schedule, and our funeral that we might be attending if we're off by a little bit." The Seventh Doctor said with emphasis, tapping his pocket watch.

"Our funeral?" Dr. Martha Jones managed to ask, worried.

"Don't worry, nothing to it." The stranger told her, still hugging her.

"Come on, let's hurry up here a bit." The Seventh Doctor said, stepping into the TARDIS. "Hello, everybody!" He called, waving at everybody inside the TARDIS. "What fun we're all going to have, eh, everybody? More fun than a barrel of something or others." He then proceeded to introduce himself. Martha Jones thought she saw him bring out some balls at this point, and start to juggle.

"I'm sorry, Martha," The stranger said, letting her go. "I got to be a bit of a crank, again, at this point."

"You're the Doctor as well?" She asked him, stunned.

The Eleventh Doctor flinched. "Ah, yes, sorry, I should have explained myself more." He murmured. "Sometimes it's hard for me to meet past companions again, especially if I've regenerated since last we met."

"You've regenerated?" Martha asked, staring at him.

The Master had regenerated, she had seen the outcome of the act, and so it was natural to assume the Doctor had as well, though she had never expected to see another one of him. She had almost assumed that the Doctor never regenerated at all, when he managed to keep himself alive and well at the end of all their adventures together, or at least as well as could be expected.

"Yes, I am the Doctor right after your Doctor regenerated, actually." Eleven said, herding her inside the TARDIS. "I am the Eleventh Doctor, that is the Seventh Doctor you just met," The Seventh Doctor tipped his panama hat at her absently, and caught the balls he had just been juggling in the process. He then proceeded to gaze around the TARDIS interior, as a few people started clapping. "And look, here is Number Ten, your Doctor!" He gestured grandly to his former self.

"Hi, Martha." Ten said tentatively, waving his hand and coming over to hug her. Martha sighed and hugged him back, as warmly as she could. It seemed that he was the first Doctor she had ever known, although she had thought that he would be the only one.

The Eleventh Doctor cleared his throat, and glanced around.

Up on the platform where the central console was located, the other companions glanced over. "Dr. Martha Jones?" Barbara said, looking around at the others. "Do you think it will be so serious that we might require a medical doctor?" Although, come to think of it, they had required a medical doctor the first time that she had traveled with the Doctor, but they couldn't get one in caveman times.

"With the Doctor, or Doctors, around, who knows?" Sarah Jane Smith shrugged. "I just hope we get through all of this alive." She murmured.

"Don't worry, girls, I'll shield you all, if anything tries to blast us." Captain Jack said, patting Sarah Jane and Barbara on their knees. "And all you girls will have to do is pick up the pieces, and I'll come back together again." He smiled.

"That's disgusting." Barbara managed to say.

"Eh, I've gotten used to it." Jack said, frowning. "The worst part, though, is that it still hurts. Still, Martha Jones is a good doctor, I'm sure, although I've never been personally treated by her, except for when she's tried to revive me." Jack smiled. "Now that was some good mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I would call her any day of the week, I swear."

"Coming from you, Captain Jack, that does sound reassuring," Sarah Jane Smith said with a laugh, though she tried to ignore her own personal fears.

"I am Captain Reassurance." Jack said with a smile as Barbara and Sarah Jane Smith rolled their eyes and laughed.

"Hello, Doctor, you have some explaining to do." Martha remarked, still in the middle of hugging the Tenth Doctor. "Unless you really are just explaining things to me right now." She said, glancing at Eleven.

"Yes, I am." Ten said.

"That wasn't awkward at all." Eleven said, turning around. "Over here we have the Third Doctor as well, the white-haired chap." The older-looking gentleman appeared quite posh, though he was wearing a gold medallion.

But what shocked Martha most of all was the idea the Doctor had ever appeared so old—even the Seventh Doctor she had just met wasn't that old, or so it seemed to her. And it seemed arbitrary. The Third Doctor appeared older, but he was actually younger than the others, if the ordinal number order meant anything, while Seven, Ten and—but then again, if they changed appearances, perhaps they changed preferences for what they looked like as well. Maybe the younger Doctor was trying to act old, and the older Doctors were trying to look young. That made sense to her, actually, much like her father's mid-life crisis of dating young girls just old enough to be Martha's sister.

"It's nice to see you again. And again. And again." Martha Jones said, smiling slightly as she glanced around at his other selves.

"We've just picked up Sarah Jane Smith, Barbara, and Captain Jack Harkness as well, so—here we all are!" The Eleventh Doctor grinned and turned back around to Dr. Martha Jones again, as the other companions waved at Martha Jones from the seat by the console. "So sorry for the inconvenience." The Eleventh Doctor managed to say.

"No trouble at all." Martha Jones managed to say, mostly because she was still too startled to say anything else at the moment. The familiar faces of Jack and the two ladies from the companion coffee shop appeared quite strained, though they were always warm and friendly, quite natural under these circumstances. Though she had no clue about what was happening here, she recognized that something had to be going on, for so many Doctors—eleven of them in full, perhaps?—and all of these companions to get involved. No wonder they were feeling the pressure.

"You'll get used to it!" Barbara called to her.

"Is everything all right, Barbara, Sarah Jane Smith, Jack?" Martha Jones managed to say, heading up to check on them. She wanted to find out what was going on here, and what they had been through. As the companions started to share their stories, the Doctors convened.

"Well, well, well, you certainly have fixed up the joint," The Seventh Doctor remarked to Eleven, glancing around.

"Thank you very much, I'm quite proud of it, although it is mostly her work." The Eleventh Doctor said, indicating the whole TARDIS. "Sexy does it again, bigger, better, and more beautiful than ever before."

"Bigger? Better? It's a mess!" The Tenth Doctor cried. "My console room was bigger, it wasn't so cluttered up with staircases and stuff." The Tenth Doctor remarked. "Much cleaner in scope, with the walls nicely detailed, and you could see all the way around the console room." The Tenth Doctor sighed. "I miss my old console room interior. I want it back."

"You can't have it back." The Eleventh Doctor scoffed. "This is my TARDIS, my console room, and I'm in control here." The TARDIS shuddered. "Sorry, she and I are in control here. We have joint custody." The Eleventh Doctor smiled. "You'll be back in your old TARDIS in no time at all, once we are done here."

"Sexy." The Tenth Doctor scoffed. "When have—have you gotten—personal with the TARDIS?" He asked, slightly intrigued.

"No!" The Eleventh Doctor exclaimed. "No, not really. We have met, sort of informally, but we have never gotten personal. Never."

The Third and Seventh Doctors appeared shocked by this, as the Tenth Doctor just shook his head disapprovingly, though he gloated slightly.

"Ah, what do you know about it?" The Eleventh Doctor said, heading up to the console. Barbara, Sarah Jane Smith, Martha Jones, and Captain Jack Harkness started to laugh amongst each other. "Be quiet." The Eleventh Doctor muttered, with the companions quietening themselves slightly.

"What are you so upset about? Aside from the general trouble with those Theologians." Captain Jack Harkness remarked.

"Oh, there is much to be upset about, much!" The Eleventh Doctor said, leaning against the console. He truly did appear to be worried. The Tenth Doctor glanced up at him as Sarah Jane Smith and the other companions lowered their eyes.

"It was practically falling apart under my control, the TARDIS." The Seventh Doctor remarked, glancing around. "Ace always did complain about the lights failing, near the end of her travels with me."

"I hope that you have not been misusing it." The Third Doctor remarked, crossing his arms and glaring at the Seventh Doctor.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" The Seventh Doctor said with a small smile.

"Mischief maker." The Third Doctor said.

"I believe 'trouble-maker' might be a better term." The Seventh Doctor added.

"Oh, balderdash." The Third Doctor said.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," The Tenth Doctor said, turning around to face his former selves, "Miss Martha Jones, the brilliant woman who walked the planet Earth," There was a slight catch in his throat as he spoke of this, thinking about The Year That Never Was. "Facing perils that you cannot possibly imagine, and yet she prevailed. She is brilliant, by the way, a medical student."

Martha Jones turned her head, slightly surprised that he would be complimenting her in such a way, even though he had made a slight error in addressing her. "Walked the Earth? Why ever did she do that?" The white-haired Doctor, the Third Doctor, asked, staring at Dr. Jones. The other companions, who had some idea what that meant, especially Jack, stayed silent at this point, not wanting to interfere.

"Because I had to. Because you made me do it." Dr. Jones told the Third Doctor, adding the last with emphasis, as she glanced back at his Tenth self. "Is this why-is this how you first heard my name?" She asked the Tenth Doctor. "Because your Seventh self knew my name already."

"What?" Jack asked, turning around to look at Ten, with Sarah Jane and Barbara paying attention. "Doctor, is this how-your past selves met us here and now first, so you knew that you would wind up traveling with-"

"No, not really." Ten said, shaking his head. "I forget a few things along the way, names and faces that I briefly met. They fade away from my memory, although sometimes I do get an inkling about a person that I meet, like I know they will-" The Tenth Doctor hesitated. "It's complicated." He added. " Martha Jones, I'm sorry, truly I am." He told her.

"Apology accepted." She murmured softly, not really trusting her words or his words.

The other two women glanced at each other, contemplating what they had just heard. "He wasn't this sensitive when I was traveling with him." Sarah Jane Smith remarked.

"He was never this sensitive when I was traveling with him." Barbara muttered slightly, studying them. "He might apologize once or twice if he felt like it, but he was so stubborn and insensitive at other times."

"He can still be insensitive, you know," Jack remarked, looking up at them. "Although I do believe, from what I've heard, that he's 'mellowed out' since your times. A lot of hardships, a lot of years have taken their toll on him." He muttered.

"Like what?" Barbara asked.

"Not right now." Sarah Jane Smith said, knowing what his past selves couldn't know.

"I'm sorry, too." The Eleventh Doctor remarked to Martha, shaking his head. "I never understood that part in my two past selves," He said, indicating Seven and Three, "Now I do."

"What is the meaning of all this?" The Third Doctor cried, shaking his head.

"I wish that I could understand it, really, I do." The Seventh Doctor sighed.

"Apology accepted as well, I suppose." Martha Jones shrugged.

"She is a doctor now, might I add." The Seventh Doctor said, swinging his umbrella onto his shoulder, "Unless you have forgotten this, too." The Seventh Doctor added.

"Are you referring to Ten?" Eleven asked.

"Thank you for remembering," Martha Jones said, smiling at the Seventh Doctor.

"You're quite welcome." The Seventh Doctor winked.

"Right. Sorry. Actually, it is my Eleventh self who seems to have forgotten a lot." The Tenth Doctor managed to smile, though he seemed rather grim. "Congratulations, Dr. Martha Jones, I hope that you get-"

"Job at UNIT." Eleven and Seven said simultaneously, and then glared at each other, with the other companions laughing slightly.

"Right, that job at UNIT." Ten grinned.

"Oh, a job at UNIT? Well, well, that is a cause for celebration, I suppose," The Third Doctor remarked. "Congratulations, my dear Miss-eh, Dr. Jones," He said, extending his hand.

"Thank you." Martha Jones managed to say, shaking his hand.

"I hope you do well there, although don't get too carried away by all that shoot 'em up business they've got going on there." The Third Doctor remarked, still shaking her hand. "It's good every now and then, but it won't solve all of your problems."

"I know, Doctor, you taught me that as well." Martha Jones said, managing to extract her hand from his. It was a little bit awkward, talking to another Doctor like this.

"The Brigadier and I recommended that she should come work for UNIT." Sarah Jane commented.

"Oh, splendid, splendid!" The Third Doctor said. "That does sound like good news. I'm sure you deserve such high praise." The Third Doctor told Martha, before turning to Sarah Jane. "By the way, how is the Brigadier in this time?"

"Just fine." Sarah Jane remarked.

"Oh, enough about UNIT." Jack said, disturbing their conversation.

"Well, I never." The Third Doctor sniffed, apalled.

"Come work at Torchwood, Martha." Jack called. "Owen can make room for you. He would be dying to make room for you."

"Do you have another immortal friend, Jack?" Barbara asked him.

"No, I'm the only one." Jack sighed.

"Thank you as well, I might consider it." Martha Jones remarked.

"Jack, not right now." Eleven said.

"Is that a promise?" Jack asked, smiling.

"Eventually." Eleven rolled his eyes.

"Success!" Jack cried.

"Amateur." All of the Doctors said, before glancing at each other. Now the companions really laughed.

"Is this getting kind of old?" The Seventh Doctor asked.

"Sort of, kind of." The Tenth Doctor said, scratching the back of his head.

"We will be getting a move on," Eleven said, moving to the console.

"Most definitely. Do you need some help?" Third asked, coming up towards him.

"I would love some, I bet." Ten said, joining Third.

"Can't tell us, am I right?" Seven asked.

"You all know me too well." Eleven grinned. The companions rolled their eyes at this charade, while the Doctors fluttered about the console.

"One more stop until our final destination!" The Tenth Doctor said. "Am I right?"

"I suppose so." Third said, glancing around at the others. "Yes, I do think there were one or two more of you all." He remarked to himself, indicating the entire TARDIS crew.

"I think the TARDIS is getting a little too cramped already." Sarah Jane Smith remarked.

"Too many Doctors...but is it not wonderful?" Jack asked his fellow compnaions.

"I suppose so, although it will take some getting used to." Barbara remarked.

"I agree with you there." Martha Jones said, shaking her head.

"He was an old man, you know, very grouchy and stubborn when I traveled with him, but now-oh my goodness." Barbara remarked to herself. "How he's changed."

"Has he really?" Jack asked.

"I agree with you there!" Sarah Jane Smith said, and then they all started to laugh.

At that point, the TARDIS stopped again, and the door was opened with a snap of the Eleventh Doctor's fingers. A blond haired man, wearing a similar panama hat to the Seventh's, entered the TARDIS, dressed in a cream-color cricketer's outfit, and dragging along a dishelved, unkempt brown-haired man with frizzy beard and mane. "Let go of me!" The brown haired man cried. "There is no call for all of this, I will comply!" The companions and the Third Doctor stared at this scene in shock, though the older Doctors gazed upon this scene with scorn, not dismay.

"Sabalom Glitz." The Seventh Doctor remarked, shaking his head at the sight of the brown-haired man as his hands rested on the curled question-mark handle of his umbrella, being used like a walking stick. "I should have remembered that you would be with us."

"Now who is the one forgetting?" The Eleventh Doctor remarked with a smile.

"I wish that I could forget this." Ten sighed to himself.

"Can someone please explain to me why we-" The Third Doctor pointed at his blond-haired self-"Are treating this fellow so rudely and inconsiderately?"

"We?" The brown-haired man asked, glancing at the Third, Seventh, and then Tenth and Eleventh Doctors-"Ah, let me guess, these are all you?" He asked the blond. When Blond nodded, the brown-haired man exclaimed, "Time Lords!"

The blond haired man pushed the brown-haired man forward, causing him to stumble, as Polly Jackson hurried in, and closed the TARDIS door behind her. "Hello, everyone!" She cried, waving her hand. "Isn't this glorious?" She exclaimed, looking up at the companions, surprised to see her with them. "My husband couldn't join us, he's calling for reinforcements." She added, joining them.

"That man before you," The Seventh Doctor remarked, pointing at Sabalom Glitz rising up off of the floor, "Is a cheat, a liar, a thief, a traitor, a molester of young women-" The Seventh Doctor grimaced, as the Third Doctor and companions stared back and forth between him and Sabalom, "And certainly he is a murderer by default, a former associate of the Master."

The Third Doctor, Martha Jones, and Captain Jack Harkness stiffened at these last words, with the other companions equally horrified by this description, including Polly. "You forgot to say 'informant', Doctor, Doctors," Sabalom Glitz remarked, glancing around at the TARDIS. "And I wouldn't be here if you all didn't need my help, so get used to having me around, at least for the duration of this mission or whatever you want to call it. Beautiful ship you've got here, Doctor, way more beautiful than anything I've ever seen." He remarked, idling towards the console.

"Hands off!" Captain Jack said, standing up and accosting Sabalom before the Doctors could make a move. "Hello, Captain Jack Harkness at your service. I will be your caretaker for this trip, so find a place to settle down, and I'll be keeping my eye on you."

"I bet you will," Sabalom said, sneering at Jack before he moved off to the side, Jack following after him.

"All right, at least that's settled, for now." The blonde haired man remarked before he bowed and said, "Hello, allow me to introduce myself-the Fifth Doctor, for those of you who don't know me." He smiled at the companions and his selves, most of whom smiled back. "I was the Doctor after your last Doctor regenerated, Miss. Sarah Jane Smith, by the way." He sighed to himself. "That scarf was always getting in the way." He raised his voice markedly at this voice.

Sarah Jane slowly nodded to herself, remembering the Fourth Doctor, while the Tenth Doctor frowned to himself. "Scarf..." He murmured.

"Do you remember where we go next?" The Eleventh Doctor remarked, with Five and Seven staring at him.

"Wait a moment-" The Third Doctor started to say, as something vaguely stirred in his mind.

"No!" The Tenth Doctor cried, staring at Eleven. "No! Why didn't you tell me this before? It's happening now?"

"Right now, or in a few moments, somewhere in between." The Eleventh Doctor remarked.

"We've got to hurry!" The Tenth Doctor cried, rushing to the console, as the other Doctors followed after him. They immediately set to work and launched the TARDIS.

"Coordinates, coordinates," The Eleventh Doctor murmured.

"The river. Docks." The Fifth Doctor remarked.

"Warehouses, I seem to recall," The Third Doctor said, "Around-what was it, eight in the morning?"

"Thereabouts, though we have to be precise." The Seventh Doctor said.

"Mad, the bunch of them," Sabalom said, shaking his head until Jack punched him.

"What's happening? What's the rush?" Barbara asked, raising her head, as the other companions were similarly confused.

"We've got to save a life." The Tenth Doctor cried. "I've got to-" He gasped. "Oh no." He said.

"Stand by the door!" The Eleventh Doctor said.

"Right, right," The Tenth Doctor said, rushing towards the door.

"We're about to materialize!" The Eleventh Doctor cried.


	18. Arm Yourself

Ace focused her telescopic lenses on the collection of warehouses by the Thames River, specifically on the one being guarded by Cybermen. "A rather large contingent of Cybermen," She murmured into her communication device.

"How many?" Her contact asked.

"I gather about twenty or so, not counting the people who might be converted soon." She said, frowning to herself.

"And how many of them are there?" The other person asked.

"A rather large number of people, maybe enough to fill a train, have been transmatted in there within the last hour or so." Ace said, checking the transmat log. "I don't know how many else might already be in there."

"How is that even possible?" The other person asked, stunned. "How could so many people have been taken by the Cybermen without alerting the authorities?"

"The Cybermen and their tactics are not well known here." Ace said. "Twenty-first Earth has not advanced enough yet to detect all of these transmats, nor the Cybermen themselves. I assume these Cybermen are scavengers, picking out victims from wrecks, catastrophes, or maybe even runaways, who can be easily picked out and converted without being missed or leaving a trace." She sniffed slightly. If things had been different, she might have ended up like one of them.

"Twenty-first century Earth is strange." The other person murmured. "We shouldn't even be here."

"I'm going to need some help here soon." Ace emphasized. "I can't take on twenty Cybermen, and their converts, by myself." She had a laser gun with her, which wasn't as effective as gold might have been, but it would have to do.

"We shouldn't be here." The other person emphasized. "The Shadow Proclamation does not allow this kind of interference-"

"Jesus, the Shadow Proclamation is almost as bad as the Prime Directive!" Ace cried.

"Be that as it may, this part of time and space is already too messed up to allow this type of interference on our part. If you want to attack them, you are on your own." The other person said, shutting off their communication device.

Ace felt like screaming and throwing away her now useless communication device, but there was little point in doing that. Besides, she was within a mile of the Cybermen headquarters. They were bound to locate her soon enough if she acted out. Ace stared down at her laser gun, trying to figure out her strategy. If she could get at the guards and then rush in, she might be able to take out their Cyber-Leader before she was killed. Not a very good idea. Ace frowned to herself. What was she supposed to do?

She heard the tromp of Cybermen approaching and ducked down, warming up her laser gun as she spied on them. Two of them with a prisoner, a short old man with dark, bowl-shaped hair, similar to a popular hairstyle that appeared in the late 1960s after the Beatles craze started, and he was wearing a jacket, shirt, and suspenders? Ace frowned to herself once more. What sort of a man was he, dressed up and styled like this? Not the usual sort of man for the start of the 21st century, she knew. He seemed to be dressed up like he was from another era. Just like her.

Ace adjusted her communication device to pick up any noise from their location. The man was trying to talk. "Now please, I really must protest, you have no idea what or who you are-"

"Silence." One of the Cybermen said, holding up his hand. "You will be processed and assimilated."

Ace heard the beep, indicating that her laser gun was now fully charged, and proceeded to blast the Cybermen holding the gentleman hostage. "Oh, I say!" The gentleman cried, startled, moving away from the two Cybermen as they collapsed. The gentleman looked up and all around until he spotted her hand waving at him. He quickly ran over towards her position. "Thank you very much." The gentleman said, leaping over the top of the hill and landing right next to her, squatting down just as she was doing. "Those Cybermen would have gotten me for sure."

"No problem." She remarked, glancing over at him. "I'm Ace." She said, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Hey, how did you know what they were?" She asked.

"I'm…" He glanced over at her and frowned, not saying another word for a minute as he studied her.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, a little nervous underneath his intense gaze. It almost reminded her of 'the Professor', the way he used to look at her, as if he knew that she was hiding some deep dark malevolent secret that not even she knew about. Eventually, she found out that it had something to do with the curse of Fenric, but she spent several long sleepless nights wondering what a Time Lord like him could know about her. He probably knew more than he would ever say.

"It's nothing, nothing, just a trace of something." The gentleman muttered, looking away from her. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Watching them, of course." She said, taking off her telescopic lenses to show him the view through the device. "Assessing the lay of the land, deciding what entry point would be best for an attack, that sort of thing."

He frowned to himself as he looked through her device. "Of course, naturally, obviously. It's amazing, extraordinary. I never thought that I would see such a thing again. Cybermen, bold as brass and just as obvious as ever before, staked out right here in the middle of London, yet no one comes to stop them. Why am I not surprised? What is this world coming to?" He muttered, shaking his head as he handed the telescopic lenses back to her. "We have to figure out a way of getting at them before it's too late. Can you call in an air strike of some sort, or something targeted specifically at the Cybermen and not at their human victims?" He asked.

"I can't do that." Ace said, shaking her head. "I'm on my own now. If you had asked me that earlier, maybe, but my team just deserted me. They didn't want to interfere in this time and place." Something was bugging her about his speech, until she realized that he was talking about the Cybermen like they were an ordinary, common-day nuisance. Surely no ordinary person from this era could know about the Cybermen just yet, or treat them so casually? They wouldn't be common knowledge for centuries yet, and if people did know about the Cybermen, they would quake in fear at the prospect of them, not just rudely comment on the state of affairs.

"It is very delicate, this time and place," The gentleman remarked with a nod, glancing over at her. "Not like some other eras and locations. You could drop in a dinosaur, or something like that, and yet it would go unnoticed or it wouldn't affect anything."

"Wait a second," Ace said, turning to him. "You're a time traveler, aren't you?" Part of her wanted to say Time Lord, but she didn't want to accuse him of being anything he might not be able to understand, and she certainly did not want him to be a Time Lord, like 'the Professor' was. She had already dealt with one or two Time Lords in the past, and she wanted to steer clear of that mess. Sometimes she wondered, looking back on her past, if the Doctor had actually wanted her to become a Time Lord, or something like that. No thank you to that, she would have said now. Once, she might have thought differently, though.

"Speak for yourself." The gentleman remarked. "You don't belong here either."

"That's true, but there are a lot of places where I don't belong, not just in time." Ace said and sighed. "Anyway, what are you doing here in this time period?" She asked. "Are you some kind of archeologist or researcher studying this time period?"

"No, no, far from it," The gentleman said, waving her away. "I'm trying to get in there to help rescue some friends of mine who were taken by the Cybermen."

"On your own?" Ace said, incredulous.

"Yes, at the moment." The gentleman said, twiddling his fingers.

"You can't do that, no one can do that on their own!" Ace exclaimed. "I'm on my own, and I wouldn't do that! Not even with this!" Ace said, waving her laser gun. She had been considering it, but it would have been a risky last move on her part that she wouldn't have survived.

"Yes, but you see, I'm not completely on my own, or at least I won't be. I hope." The gentleman said, looking up at her. "I have a letter that told me to come here, at this time and place. You see, I have to meet some people here, a few for the first time ever, you might say. I am not quite certain what I am getting myself into, as this is my first time on an adventure like this one, although I do know that something important is going to take place here, at this spot and time."

"Oh, really? Like what?" She asked, staring at him.

"Just wait and see, my dear." He said, ducking down.

Ace went down beside him just as two people appeared below, a red-headed woman and a man wearing a hat and a long scarf. Ace and the gentleman spied on them, slightly shocked by their appearance.

"Shouldn't we try and warn them about what's going on here, get them out of here as soon as possible?" She asked.

"I'm not sure." The gentleman said, raising his head. "I believe the fellow below might be able to take care of himself, probably both of them if she doesn't wander off too far."

Ace frowned. "What do you mean by that?" She asked, offended.

"Nothing, nothing," He said, ducking down again.

"Is he leaving her?" Ace said, staring over the edge a moment later.

"What? Why would he do that?" The gentleman said, staring as the man with the scarf and hat ran off in another direction. "Is he mad?" He asked, worried.

"That's it, I'm going down after her," Ace said, and then paused to check her laser gun. "Oh, no, it needs to recharge! Not again!" She cried.

"It better hurry," The gentleman said, facing her. "I see a Cyberman going in the direction of the ginger-haired woman."

"What? No, no, no!" She cried, slapping her laser gun. "This will take too long. Do you have any weapon with you, sir?" She asked.

"A gun? No, I don't carry a gun, or any sort of weapon like that," The gentleman said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small device. "I carry a sonic screwdriver." He said, wiggling the device.

"What in hell is that thing?" Ace said, staring. "A sonic screwdriver?" She asked. "What kind of useless toy is that?" She asked.

"Useless toy?" He cried, offended. "I'll have you know that-"

"Damn it!" Ace cried, looking over the edge and seeing the Cyberman reach out for the ginger-haired woman. "She's dead, I just know it, and it's all my fault for listening to you!"

Suddenly, she heard the familiar vworp-worp sound of the TARDIS, one that she had not expected to hear again in over a million years. She and the gentleman turned around in shock as the TARDIS suddenly materialized right in front of them, looking slightly different from how she remembered it. The door opened, and a tall, thin man with scraggly brown hair lunged out. He swooped down to grab Ace's laser gun just as it beeped, then raised himself up and fired at the Cyberman touching the ginger-haired woman, blasting the cyborg creature.

Down below, Donna Noble cried out, not because of any shock she received from the Cyberman, but because of the loud, brutal, and forceful nature of its destruction. She stumbled forward, out of its grip as it fell onto the ground. She gasped, gazing down at the broken Cyberman, wondering what could have destroyed such a terrible, powerful thing.

Ace stared up at the brown-haired man, who was breathing heavily as he reflexively clutched at the laser gun, and the older gentleman beside her shook his head. "My, my, how I must change." He muttered, staring.

Donna Noble raised her head in search of what had caused this, and spotted a familiar figure in the distance. "Doctor?" She gasped, recognizing his scraggly head above the top of the hill. "My Doctor?" She gasped again and then smiled, running towards him.

The brown-haired man breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the ginger-haired woman running up towards him, safe and sound, and he relaxed into a more languid manner as he turned around to face Ace and the gentleman. "Hello, Ace," He said, tossing her the laser gun. "Thanks for letting me borrow that. I owe you one." He said, winking and smiling at her with a click of his tongue.

"You know me?" Ace said just as the gentleman said, "I know her?"

"Of course I know her." The Tenth Doctor said, guffawing. "I met her when I was him," He said, pointing back towards the TARDIS.

Ace turned around and cried, "Professor!" as the Seventh Doctor emerged, along with a few others. Two of them, a beautiful black woman and a strapping fellow wearing a long-coat went over to the ridge overlooking the warehouse where the Cybermen were located.

"Hello, Ace!" The Seventh Doctor said, waving his umbrella at her. "How are things with you?"

"Still alive, at least." She said, running over and hugging him before she walloped him slightly on the back. "Well, Professor, you've got some explaining to do, as usual." She said.

"Naturally, though I believe we should wait a minute for that." The Seventh Doctor told her.

"You were always telling me to wait a moment." Ace remarked as several more people came out of the TARDIS. "Blimey, who are all of them?" She asked, staring. The couple on the ridge were soon joined by a geeky-looking young man with frenetic hair and a slightly over middle age woman with shoulder length brown hair. All four of them seemed to be discussing the situation avidly. An elderly foppish gentleman with white hair passed by and gave them some advice once or twice.

Meanwhile, Donna Noble had climbed up the hill and into the hugging arms of the Tenth Doctor as the others trooped out of the TARDIS and were introduced. "Oh, Doctor, it's so good to see you again!" Donna Noble said, hugging him tightly back. "I mean, I did just meet your other self a little while ago, but he certainly is not you."

"Quite right, too." The Tenth Doctor said.

"Naturally. Why would you expect me to be like him?" A familiar voice remarked, and they both turned and faced the Fourth Doctor along with everybody else. "Is the fun about ready to begin?" He asked with a smile. "Hello, Sarah Jane Smith!" He said, waving towards the crowd.

"Hello, Doctor." An older woman waved and replied with a smile from her position over on the ridge.

"You shouldn't have left her there!" The Tenth Doctor said, storming up to the Fourth Doctor. "You should have told to run, as fast as she could, and stay away from you."

"Amen to that." The Eleventh Doctor muttered softly from where he was overhearing the conversation. Sarah Jane Smith glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. Martha and Jack didn't really comment.

The Fourth Doctor frowned. "I did tell her to stay away from me, you know that." The Fourth Doctor insisted, offended. "And yet she chose to follow me. Now can I help it if she chose to follow me?"

Donna gasped. "Excuse me, I am right here, you know." She said, shaking her head. "You two, you don't ever change, do you? Always talking like there's nobody else around to hear you! Or a captive audience, leastways." She remarked. "Never thinking about other people's feelings."

"You see? Free will." The Fourth Doctor said with a grin. "One of the marvels of our great, magnificent universe."

"Boys." Donna said, shaking her head.

"Besides, I did know that you would be along presently to rescue her." The Fourth Doctor said, reaching into his pocket as he glanced up at Ten. "To balance out the realm of cause and effect, one might say."

"I could have missed." The Tenth Doctor said, grim. "Gotten here too late."

"But you didn't." The Fourth Doctor said with a grin, pulling out his bag of candy. "Anybody want a jelly baby?" He asked

"Barbara! Polly!" The gentleman on the ground said, waving at the two older women coming out of the TARDIS. "Well, fancy that!" He exclaimed, getting up and running over towards them. "It's so good to meet you both again!" He said, shaking their hands. "How is Ian? And Ben?" He asked.

Barbara hesitated to reply as Polly said, "Ben is fine. He stayed behind to rally some troops to come to our aid."

"Wonderful news! Wonderful news! We shall beat those Cybermen yet!" The Second Doctor said, and moved forward to introduce himself to the others up on the ridge. He also gave them some advice, which was contradicted by the Third Doctor and even the Eleventh, starting a short argument.

Barbara shook her head. "I couldn't say." She whispered.

Polly patted Barbara on the shoulder. "I know." She said and sighed. "I would feel the same way, I suppose."

"A few are old and new friends of mine," The Seventh Doctor told Ace, gesturing, "A few are different incarnations of me, which I'll explain later, and…"

"You." Ace said, frowning as she spotted Glitz amongst them.

"Me?" Glitz said, pointing at himself.

"You!" She cried, lunging forward at him.

"Steady on, old girl." The Seventh Doctor said, trying to hold back Ace as Glitz shielded himself behind the Fifth Doctor. "He hasn't met you yet." The Seventh Doctor muttered in Ace's ear.

Martha and Jack retreated from the observation post and headed back towards the TARDIS, glancing at the confrontation between Ace and Glitz before they entered the blue box. The others were watching as well, including Donna, the Fourth and Tenth Doctors.

"What's going on there?" Dona asked, munching on jelly babies.

"Unfinished business." The Tenth Doctor said, swallowing.

"He hasn't?" Ace asked, breathing heavily. "Then I can murder him, and-"

"Change time irrecoverably?" The Seventh Doctor asked, glancing at Ace. "Force time to bend and flow backwards, to a point where you never met him, and, by extension, might never have met me?"

Ace fumed. "It would have taken both of the worst men out of my life forever."

"And you still would have been stuck on Iceworld, or dead by now." The Seventh Doctor said.

"I could have gotten away somehow," She muttered, but she relaxed slightly, still glaring at Glitz.

"That's fine, that's fine." The Seventh Doctor said, glancing up at the others. "She's all right, everybody."

"Why don't you have them shake hands?" The Eleventh Doctor asked, an eyebrow raised as he stared at the pair of them.

"Oh, here comes the good part!" The Tenth Doctor said, pointing.

"I know, I've seen it twice already." The Fourth Doctor commented.

The Seventh Doctor arched his eyebrows. "Well, why ever not? Go ahead, Ace…shake his hand." He said with a grin.

"My pleasure," Ace said, grimly smiling at the Seventh Doctor as she strode over towards Glitz.

The Fifth Doctor hesitated, not quite liking the look in Ace's eyes, but Glitz extracted himself slowly from behind the Fifth Doctor's back. "Hello, dearie," Glitz managed to say, holding his hand towards Ace. "All is forgiven?" He asked, a little unnerved.

"Right." Ace said, punching him as hard as she could in his gullet. "That felt a little bit better." She remarked, retreating away from Glitz as the Fifth Doctor tended to him.

"Good show, Ace!" The Eleventh Doctor cried as the Seventh, Tenth, and Fourth Doctors applauded.

Donna laughed. "Not sure what that was, but I suppose he deserved it."

"Thanks, I think." Ace said, glancing over at the Eleventh Doctor.

"What was that all about?" The Third Doctor asked, staring at the scene.

"Just deserts, which he deserved." The Seventh Doctor said pointedly.

"Oh, I see." The Third Doctor said, frowning to himself as he remembered what the Seventh Doctor had just revealed to everybody on board the TARDIS.

Martha and Jack returned from the TARDIS, lugging between them seven heavy cases. A couple of the Doctors went over to assist them. "Is this all of them?" Martha Jones asked, glancing over at the Eleventh Doctor.

"I believe so." Eleven sighed. "Well, ladies and gentlemen," He said, turning to everyone and rubbing his hands. "It's time. Everyone, please…arm yourselves as you see fit." He remarked with disgust, shaking his head. "I really don't want to do this." He said.

"What choice do we have?" The Tenth Doctor asked, as several of his companions, and a couple of Doctors, did just what Eleven said. "To face the Cybermen, and save everyone, we must be prepared."

"We could wait a little while longer." The Fifth Doctor suggested.

"No. We can't." The Eleventh Doctor said, picking up one of the devices. "We have to go in there. All of us."

"Oh no." Sabalom Glitz said, gulping.

"Oh yes." Jack said, smiling. "We need you at the front. Right, Doctors?"

"Right." They all agreed, smiling.


	19. Rose and Crown Pub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Brigadier and Harry meet an old, tired friend at a pub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote this chapter, the seventh series had finished airing and the Eleventh Doctor's departure had not been announced yet, thus the shout-out to Clara here. Oh, and we still had no clue who the War Doctor really was, or at least I wasn't really thinking much about him being Nine-ish, so numbering system still applied here. And no mention of War Doctor anywhere here.

Dr. Harry Sullivan groaned softly to himself. "Oh, what was I thinking last night? Why did I go out with you? I must have been out of my head, for I certainly am now."

"Cheer up, Harry, it's a bright sunny day. Not raining for once." The Brigadier, Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, commented.

"It's too bright and too sunny. I wish the sun would go away and leave me alone for once." Harry muttered to himself.

The Brigadier sighed and shook his head. "Spoil-sport. You should learn to relax and enjoy yourself more. Time waits for no man, as they say, and I've learned a thing or two about time."

"So have I." Harry said. "Time will beat you and throw you back against the wall, for the things that you have done will affect your future, or the things that you haven't done at all."

"Come on, Harry, where's your sense of adventure?" The Brigadier asked, glancing back at the medical doctor.

"It went out the back door last night and it hasn't come back yet. And I'm certainly not looking for it, good riddance to it, I say." Harry commented.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," The Brigadier sighed and glanced around before he said, "Look, Harry, there's the old Rose and Crown pub, almost two centuries old. Let's pop in for a bit, get a bit of the hair of the dog that bit us. Legend has it that the ghost of a beautiful barmaid, who died in a tragic fall, still haunts the pub to this day."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll believe such urban myths when pigs fly." He said.

"And yet you've seen so many wonderful, unusual, and amazing things, traveling with the Doctor. I still can't believe…" The Brigadier muttered to himself before he said, "Come on, Harry, we're going in." He marched off towards the pub.

Harry hesitated, but decided to follow the Brigadier to make sure that he didn't get into any more trouble. Last night, they were involved in at least two brawls that were the Brigadier's fault, and two more that the Brigadier had jumped into without even knowing what was going on. The Brigadier was always so gung-ho about everything that Harry still couldn't believe he was fast approaching eighty years of age.

My God, it was amazing that the Brigadier had lasted this long, in spite of all the trouble he had faced as commander of Britain's U.N.I.T forces, dealing with alien and even subterranean threats. Yet the Brigadier had managed it all with aplomb, charm, wit and brisk forcefulness, even though the Doctor had called him pigheaded and stupid at times. But considering what they were dealing with, the unknown variables, and some of the Doctor's complicated and outlandish tactics, antics, and schemes, with no guarantees, it was amazing that the Brigadier had managed to keep his cool for so long.

Yet he had trusted the Doctor implicitly, even when he wasn't that sure, and the Doctor hardly ever failed him. The Brigadier might fail the Doctor once or twice, but the Doctor would save the Brigadier, U.N.I.T., and Earth in the end. Harry sighed to himself. That was the way it had always been, yet now, he wasn't so sure of that story. Harry himself had witnessed what happened in the Year That Never Was, when the Master himself had taken over the world, and the Doctor had been helpless to stop him then.

Oh, sure, the Doctor had a plan to revive himself, hastily ill-conceived as it might have been, and eventually they broke the Paradox Machine, but still, the Doctor had taken his sweet time regaining his power and ending the Master's reign. It wasn't something that Harry would have trusted the Doctor to do, after tending to him for awhile. The Master hadn't been the only one fooled by the Doctor then, but was it really a trick? Was the Doctor really bluffing, confidant in the ability of his companion Martha Jones, who was now a medical doctor, to help him gain the upper hand, or was he just so desperate that he was willing to try anything to stop the Master from causing any more damage than he already had? Harry wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of the Doctor anymore.

The first time Dr. Harry Sullivan had met the Doctor was after he had regenerated from a curly white-haired fop to an impish, curly brown-haired bohemian, babbling nonsense about a brontosaurus and the square of the hypotenuse. Dr. Sullivan had tended to and treated the Doctor as best he could, but the rogue was up and about and roaming around the hallways of U.N.I.T. headquarters before Harry could even blink.

Harry had tracked him down to the Doctor's lab, where his TARDIS was located, and there the Doctor had coerced Harry into a game of jump-rope to prove that he was fit and sound enough to leave the infirmary-uh, sick bay, the Doctor had called it an infirmary, but it really was the sick bay.

"Mother, mother, I feel sick," The Doctor had chanted as they both jump-roped together, "Send for the doctor quick, quick, quick." The Doctor had seemed most urgent, staring straight into Harry's eyes, as he said, "Mother, dear, shall I die? Yes, my darling, by-and-by. One, two, three, four…" And so on, until the Doctor had worn Harry out, tied him up with the jump-rope, and tossed him into the cupboard! The Doctor was always getting the better of Harry, it seemed.

Harry was almost glad when he got left behind on the shore of Loch Ness, although he did miss traveling with the Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith sometimes, until Sarah Jane was left behind as well. Perhaps it was for the best; the Doctor had a habit of leaving behind his companions, it seemed, but there were worse ways of leaving behind the Doctor, he assumed. Dr. Martha Jones at least had walked out on her own two feet, not in a casket.

Harry Sullivan and the Brigadier walked into the pub, the former British Navy and Army men staggered up to the bar and sat down on a couple of stools. The pub was practically empty so early in the morning, with just the barkeeper, a couple of drunks passed out in a corner table, and a lone man sitting at the far end of the bar, underneath the telly, nursing an almost full pint and a tray of chips. The Brigadier ordered a couple of drinks, which made Harry wince slightly at the thought of drinking more, and then they sat there, not saying a word to each other, as the blasé noise coming from the telly nearly drowned out their own thoughts and fears as sure as any beer could. But then an announcement cut through as hard as any knife. "Express Train 239, on its way to London, has derailed…"

Both Harry and the Brigadier stopped and lifted their heads to look up at the telly, along with the bartender filling their drinks. The only conscious person who did not look up at the telly, at the images on the screen of the broken train, and the investigators combing through the wreckage, the sound of the newscaster explaining the mysterious circumstances that surrounded this wreck, was the lone man sitting beneath the telly, drinking his beer, and eating his chips. In fact, he lowered his head even more, if that were possible.

Harry's eyes drifted down towards him, the middle-aged lone man with his closely-shaved blond hair, large ears and nose, wearing a leather coat over a dark shirt and pants. For a moment, Harry couldn't help wondering…no, it wouldn't be possible, it just wasn't. The 21st century, and all of the recent attacks against Britain and her allies, had made Harry even more paranoid than before, wondering if there was a violent instigator around every corner. Harry shouldn't judge, look around for somebody else to blame, when he was just afraid and worried about what might happen next, like practically everybody else. Harry looked away from him after a moment.

The Brigadier, however, was also studying the stranger, as their drinks arrived, and the Brigadier thoughtfully gulped his down before his eyes widened. "Harry," The Brigadier hissed, turning to the younger man sitting next to him, and nudging him slightly when he didn't respond at first.

"What?" Harry asked, blearily looking up at the Brigadier. He had also grabbed one of the drinks, and had started to sip his way towards oblivion once more.

"I think that's the Doctor over there." The Brigadier said, inclining his head slightly towards the lone man sitting on the far end of the bar.

"You're joking, right?" Harry asked, raising his head to look over the Brig's shoulder and see the man again himself.

"Don't look, Harry. I don't want to cause a scene here, and spook him into running away. I'm not joking." The Brigadier said, lowering his voice even further. "Captain Jack Harkness described the Doctor he first traveled with, when he met Rose instead of Martha, and this bloke matches the description perfectly. The veteran of the Time War."

"The war against the Daleks?" Harry said, and then shuddered slightly. He had heard what Martha and Jack had to say about the Time War, related to them by the Doctor, how the Time Lords, the Doctor's people, had fought off the Daleks, costing them almost all of their lives. Except for the Doctor, who had survived, the last of the Time Lords…with the exception of the late Master.

Harry didn't know quite how it had happened, but he suspected that the Doctor himself might have had a hand in the destruction of Gallifrey, his home planet, and the Daleks and Time Lords themselves. Harry wouldn't have believed that the old Doctor, the one that he had traveled with, would have done such a thing, when he had even hesitated at killing the first Daleks, believing that their existence might have proved useful in the sense that it united so many allies together to fight them. But now…Harry wasn't sure what he would believe of the new Doctor parading about in his blue or brown suits. Harry was scared of him, to be honest. Perhaps the Time War had really changed the man for the worse.

"Exactly." The Brigadier said, and shook his head. "If only…if only I could have the chance to talk with him…"

"Talk with me about what?" A northern-accented voice said, and both Harry and the Brigadier froze and slowly turned around to face the Ninth Doctor, standing right behind them. Apparently, he had gotten up, and came over while they were so distracted with their conversation. "The nice weather that we're having? Hello, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart," The Ninth Doctor said, saluting the Brigadier warmly and officially before he shook his hand. "It's so good to see you again." He grinned.

"Good to see you, too, Doctor," The Brigadier said, a little hesitant. "Yes, what wonderful weather we are having."

"Hello, Harry Sullivan," The Ninth Doctor gave him a smaller salute, in accordance with his lower rank, and then shook Harry's hand. "Still keeping fit and trim, I see?"

"Yes, yes, indeed," Harry said, laughing slightly and trying to act nonchalant, but he was nervous, hoping he wouldn't give anything anyway. This was an earlier Doctor than the one he had just met, after all, and he was hiding the truth about what had just happened, with the Master and the Year That Never Was, which would be in this Doctor's future, if it happened…oh, god, how did the Doctor keep up with all of this convoluted time travel mumbo-jumbo business? It was an annoyance to Harry.

"So, what were you wanting to talk to me about?" The Ninth Doctor said, glancing back and forth between them with his arms crossed.

"We were wondering what you were doing here?" Harry managed to say after a moment.

"Ah, yes, right," The Ninth Doctor said, nodding as he looked up at the screen. "I was trying to prevent that from happening." He managed to say. "I thought that if I could change it…it wouldn't be so bad. It wouldn't be a complete, total disaster. But no, I couldn't change it. I couldn't do anything about it. So I might as well do what I had set out to do in the first place, my mission in this whole fiasco. I failed to do this once before, but not again. Harry, Brigadier, I need some help from UNIT." The Ninth Doctor said.

"We would be honored to help." The Brigadier managed to say.

"Thanks. I knew you would say that." The Ninth Doctor grinned, in what was almost a grimace, and continued, "Now, then, we need a plan of attack. I've already arranged for the riverfront attack, Ben should call-"

Harry's mobile phone rang, and Harry quickly picked up. "Hello, Ben?" He asked, and nodded as he heard Ben talking.

"—So we need UNIT to coordinate the land attack." The Ninth Doctor said. "Ben should have the coordinates…"

"Got them, Doctor," Harry said, getting out a piece of paper from his pocket and writing them down. "Yes, Ben, he's here, too, the…" Harry looked up and asked, "What number are you?"

"The Ninth Doctor."

"The Ninth Doctor, right," Harry said, and listened to Ben talk some more as the Brigadier checked the coordinates.

"What exactly are we dealing with here?" The Brigadier asked.

"Cybermen." Both Harry and the Ninth Doctor said.

"Of course." The Brigadier said, nodding. "I'll get UNIT on top of this right away," The Brigadier said, picking up his mobile phone.

"Thank you, at last." The Ninth Doctor said, both relieved and exasperated as he sat down at a stool next to the Brig and Harry, both busy talking. "I could do with some tea." The Doctor told the bartender, who slowly nodded and went off to heat up a pot.

"The team is on its way," The Brigadier said a half hour later as the Doctor finished drinking his cup. "How are you holding up, Doctor?"

"Never better. You've heard, haven't you?" The Ninth Doctor asked, sipping the dregs.

The other two hesitated before the Brigadier said, "Yes, Doctor, we've heard."

"Fantastic." The Ninth Doctor said, stirring up the dregs with his finger. "It happened…last Tuesday for me." He said. "Of course, it's been a very…long week for me. I've managed to get myself out of the TARDIS this morning, at least, but I don't know about tomorrow. I don't know what comes next for me. I know that something is going to happen at least. I've met my future selves, Ten and…Eleven, so I'm bound to continue, in some shape or form, but nothing is ever certain for me. Nothing." He sighed to himself.

"Doctor, do you need some help?" Harry Sullivan asked. "A psychiatrist or psychologist or therapist of some kind?"

"I don't think that's going to help." The Ninth Doctor said, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing that any of them can say that can make me feel better at this point. I mean, what's the point? They have no experience treating someone who destroyed their home planet." He scoffed, and then shuddered to himself. "Anyway, it's a mess. And this mess with the Cybermen is something that I want to avoid." He managed to say. "I am going to be there, all of the rest of me, but I'm not, not personally, at least. I'm sitting this one out." He said.

"We understand, Doctor. You deserve a break." The Brigadier said, patting the Doctor on the shoulder.

"Thanks a million." The Ninth Doctor said, staring into his tea cup. "I don't deserve it." The Brigadier and Harry Sullivan remained silent for a moment, watching him.

"Let's go." The Ninth Doctor said, standing up, and leaving the pub as Harry Sullivan and the Brigadier, both a little surprised at his sudden movement, quickly paid the bartender and went after him, leaving their empty cups on the counter of the quiet Rose and Crown pub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Ninth Doctor, this takes place soon after his regeneration, before he met Rose. Again, the 50th anniversary special had not aired yet, no idea about the War Doctor or Gallifrey being saved, thus Nine is sad. And no idea about the Twelfth Doctor either.


	20. Brave Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attack on the warehouse starts and Tegan is brought back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at this point, Matt Smith's departure had been announced, and I was a little sad at that while still moving on as Doctor Who does. And thinking back, I am a little sad as well, realizing that his Eleventh Doctor's last "Geronimo!" might have been cried during the 50th anniversary special, one of his last, great adventures. Sigh.

Victoria froze at the sight of them. Cybermen. Not like the frozen Cybermen that she had first met as a young woman, so soon after the loss of her father to the Daleks, but Cybermen nonetheless, with the distinct valve on top of their heads, or whatever that bar thing was. They marched into the coffin warehouse, as she had begun to think of the place where they stored all of these cryogenic chambers or cell boxes, and came right up to her and the Eighth Doctor. The Eighth Doctor stood up and started arguing with them, or whatever he was saying, but Victoria could not really hear what he was saying, so horrified at the sight of them that she was captivated by them, entranced by their appearance.

She had seen these Cybermen before, of course, last year when the ghosts had appeared and solidified, but she had never imagined that they would still be here…these past few hours had been beyond belief for her, even with her year or so of traveling with the Doctor, and winding up staying behind in the 1980s, over a century after her own time period. She did not know if she would survive this. The Cybermen refused to listen to the Doctor, it seemed, and grabbed her and him, dragging them out of the coffin storage section and towards a different part of the warehouse.

While sunlight had still shown through the windows in the coffin section, making it easier for them to choose people to change, the Cyber transformation area was shrouded in darkness, with light emanating only from the glowing screens and instruments of the Cybermen processing chamber. Victoria assumed that, at this point, light was unnecessary, perhaps even grotesque, to the newly transformed Cybermen, who would rather hide in the darkness. She was perhaps a little sentimental in her judgment here, but at least she was still human, for the moment, and could feel such things, including abject terror.

"I'm sorry, Victoria, I did not mean for you to get involved in all of this," The Eighth Doctor said as he and Victoria were strapped onto a gurney of sorts, about to be sent into the Cybermen processing chamber.

"Can't be helped, I suppose, although I do wish that you could have tried a little harder." Victoria managed to say as she glanced around.

The Cybermen were not alone; it seemed that a group of people, standing together in a corner of the room, separate from the Cybermen, had been allowed to stay mostly human, at least as far as she could tell, though they wore robes, covering up their faces and bodies, so they might have some metal parts that she could not see underneath. Perhaps these were the Theologians of the 4th Quarter who had been chasing the Eighth Doctor down? She assumed it must be so, they looked like Theologians dressed up for some secret ceremony. They were probably aligned with the Cybermen, for whatever reason they had.

However, she had seen what happened to Eric Klieg when he tried to ally himself with the Cybermen and that had failed miserably; she could only hope, as her soul would be gone from her soon, and she would be turned into such a heartless machine, that someday they would face the same fate that she would be in a matter of moments. Perhaps, in her Cyberman form, she would destroy them. That might be some form of comfort, however small and worthless it was.

"Next time, I will." The Eighth Doctor said, low enough so that only Victoria could hear him. She shook her head, however, not understanding his comment. How could there be a next time?

One Cyberman lumbered forward. "Any final words, Time Lord?" He asked.

"There was a time when I would have destroyed you without batting an eye." The Eighth Doctor said and then sighed. "I miss those times. Let's bring them back." He whistled.

"I couldn't agree with you more, 'Doctor'," A somewhat jolly, maniacal voice proclaimed, and one of the Theologians of the 4th Quarter ripped off his robes, revealing a coat of so many bright colors that they shone in the darkness, a head covered in bright, curly blond hair, an odd looking gun clutched in one of his hands, and a grin so malicious and grim that Victoria was almost frightened of him. "If you can call yourself that." The Sixth Doctor remarked as he fired his gun at the Cyberman nearest to the Eighth Doctor, electrifying and blasting it to pieces. The Theologians of the 4th Quarter cried out in alarm, and retreated back away from the Sixth Doctor.

"Good shot, Doctor," Another voice, Australian and female, said under the robes, and she removed her robes, revealing a head of curly brown hair, slightly grayer and more frazzled than they had been once, but there was still a spark of life left in her eyes. "I never thought you had it in you. My turn." Tegan Jovanka said, turning on another Cyberman with her gun, and blasting it alongside the Sixth Doctor as the Cybermen turned to fire at them.

"What is going on here?" Victoria asked, shocked by all of this activity when she had assumed that she was already doomed.

The Eighth Doctor had already ripped off his restraints, and set to work on Victoria's restraint, as he said, "The cavalry is here, as they say. And as an old friend of mine used to say…Geronimo." He grinned.

"Geronimo!" The shout was echoed from the front of the warehouse as the doors were opened, revealing the bright noonday sun, and Victoria had to shield her eyes from the brightness of the sun and that group of people charging into the warehouse.

A few hours before, Tegan had been sitting in Hyde Park, reading a newspaper and humming an old Johnny Chess song to herself. She still couldn't put it out of her mind, all of these years later. She had loved the man, after all, though it might have been for the wrong reasons. Johnny Chess, otherwise known as John Chesterton, had been a link to her past, odd though it might have been, with a faded memory of some stories his parents had once told him about the Doctor, who traveled through time and space in a police box.

Tegan had been shocked to learn of his connection when they first started dating, and though she might have considered breaking up with him then, feeling that it was too weird and that this might be a bad sign for their relationship, she still was attached and attracted to him, and she couldn't help asking him more about those stories. She wanted to find out more, and see if what he told her was true, and not made-up or fake. The details were a little vague, and she thought that he might have gotten some of the stories mixed up or distorted, but otherwise, it sounded as if his parents Barbara and Ian had traveled with the Doctor, albeit in a different form, the old man she had briefly met along with about two other Doctors. (Apparently, it was supposed to be three other Doctors, but she had never met the fourth one.)

Tegan had shaken her head and smiled to herself when she heard those stories from Johnny, fascinated by how the Doctor could so quickly be transformed into legend and myth, his story passed down through the generations. She had never imagined that the Time Lord could be such a spectacular, mythical figure, when he had seemed rather ordinary and plain, compared to the other Time Lords and monsters that she had met while traveling with him. Perhaps everything he had gone through, and all of the people that he met along the way, perhaps that got rubbed off of him somehow, and he became a living legend, a beacon of hope, when he had saved so many lives in the past and future, albeit while destroying others in the process.

Tegan sighed and shook her head, even now, as she thought about all of those people who had lost their lives, including Adric, helping the Doctor or getting caught up in his shenanigans. That had been why she had left him, for the second time, in the end; "it wasn't fun anymore," She had said, meaning that she was tired of seeing so much violence and bloodshed, with the Doctor caught up in the midst of it all. Perhaps she had been harsh to him, on some occasions she did have fun with the Doctor and her friends, and it wasn't entirely his fault that things turned out so bad, but it was a valid criticism in its own way. The Doctor could have done better, tried harder, she thought, to save those in need. It annoyed her sometimes that the Doctor couldn't be better.

But Johnny Chess was proof that not all of the Doctor's actions had been in vain, that there were people out there who still saw him as a hero, and Johnny…Tegan sighed. Johnny had been a hero to her in so many ways, then, but afterwards he became a mess, rather like the Doctor to her. She began to project her frustrations and hopes with the Doctor onto him, and Johnny couldn't cope with that. It wound up being a messy divorce, and Tegan had been a mess for years afterwards, unable to stand being without Johnny and yet hating him as well. Finally, though, it seemed like things had calmed down; she wasn't as obsessed or mad as she used to be, although thoughts about Johnny and his songs still lingered in her mind. She couldn't control it.

As she sat there, a man with curly, blond hair in a brightly colored jacket with yellow suspenders walked along the path and sat down next to her; she had noticed him from afar, how could she not when he was so bright, but she had hoped that if she ignored him, then he might go away, keep on walking without noticing her. However, that was not the case.

"Hello, Tegan, how are you today?" He asked, grinning as he stared at her.

Tegan frowned and turned to stare at him. "Who are you?" She asked, wondering if she had met him somewhere and had forgotten about him, although how could she forget such a monstrosity of a coat?

"Guess." He said, twiddling his fingers, and Tegan caught the familiar sight of gleaming brass from the Yale key he deftly maneuvered between his fingers. Plus, there was that awful cat pin on his lapel, right where his celery stick used to be.

"Doctor." She said, staring at him. "It is you, isn't it?" She asked, as he settled back on the park bench, looking immensely satisfied with himself like a Cheshire Cat.

"Indubitably, undoubtedly, indomitability, one of a kind. Well, one of a dozen or so, actually…" He said, holding up a finger, "But who's counting here?" He remarked. "Well, I am, actually. I am the Sixth Doctor, right after the Fifth, whom you traveled with so for so long, regenerated and after the Fourth Doctor, the first one you met, regenerated. Kids' stuff, really." He said, scratching the back of his head.

Tegan shook her head. "Why are you here? Why have you come back to me after so long away, for me anyways, when it has not been very long for you, I imagine?" She remarked, eyeing him.

"Well, it has been awhile for me, not years and years," He said, eyeing her, "But it has been awhile. I actually regenerated not that long ago, really, from your Fifth Doctor to my present form, and it was a nightmare experience for me, a horrifying catastrophe. The poison really affected me, my mind and everything. I did not really think I would ever recover from what happened to me on Androzani, the trauma there was just too great for me. But eventually, I managed to piece myself together again."

"You still look a little messed up," She remarked, staring at the Sixth Doctor's coat.

"What? This?" He asked, examining his coat. "It's wonderful, it's colorful, just the sort of brightness and sunshine and happiness that one needs in one's life when one is constantly being chased around and shuffled through an assortment of nightmares and strange beings." He remarked. "Plus, it's very theatrical and spectacular, just the sort of thing I need to distract a villain. I love a good theatrical every now and again." He said, grinning.

"I bet you do. And what about the cat pin?" She asked, smiling smugly.

"That's a secret weapon. I don't care to discuss it yet." He remarked.

"Uh-huh." She said, shaking her head. He was even loonier than he ever had been before, if that was even possible. "So tell me again, why are you here and why are you bothering me?" She asked.

"Well, while I was recovering from my regeneration, I thought about you. I accidentally called my new assistant Peri 'Tegan', as in 'Brave heart, Tegan', do you remember that?" He asked, staring at her.

"I remember that, Doctor." Tegan said and sighed, shaking her head. "But you don't get to do that, you know, you don't get to bounce around into other people's lives, and then bounce out of them without a word of farewell, before you turn up again out of the blue, when so many years have passed them by, without a word from you…you don't get to do that and then casually mention that you are traveling with another companion, whom you mistakenly called by their name!" Tegan sighed. "It shows you how irreplaceable you really are." She remarked sarcastically.

"Tegan, I'm sorry," The Sixth Doctor said, clutching her hand. "I should have been more upfront with you, honest and fair with my feelings. I should have been more firm with you, reassuring, trustworthy. I never gave you what you really wanted." He remarked. "Can you forgive me?" He asked, staring at her.

"What do you want, Doctor?" She asked, staring back at him.

He sighed and let go of her hand as he said, "I need a favor, some help in dealing with a problem." He sounded more distant than he ever did before.

"Forget about it." She said, standing up and ready to walk away, turning her back on the Doctor forever. It felt good.

"It has to do with Cybermen." He called after her.

Tegan stopped and hesitated. "Cybermen?" She asked, turning back towards him.

"There are people in danger." He insisted. "They need our help. We have to save them!" He cried.

"We?" Tegan asked, staring at him.

"It's a problem too big for just a few of us to deal with. All of my past and future selves are assembling, with some of my companions, to tackle the problem head-on. Will you join us?" He asked, holding out his hand. "For Adric?"

Tegan scowled at him. "This is low, even for you, Doctor." She said, but gripped his hand. "I'll do it." She added.

"That's my girl." The Sixth Doctor had said with a smile, leading Tegan out of Hyde Park and towards the warehouse. "Brave heart."

"Don't call me that anymore," She muttered, shaking her head.

"I understand, believe me, I do." The Doctor said, sighing to himself.


	21. The Impossible Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of this story, the battle in the warehouse takes place with a couple of surprises in store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished this story right before the announcement of the Twelfth Doctor--I was so relieved to finish this story, I hardly ever finish my stories. And it took me years from 2007 to 2013 to get through it all, with some gaps in between. (I started a sequel, but I haven't gotten far with it.) So I may have rushed through this last chapter. Not all of the Doctors and companions get much time here, but I covered what I wanted to cover and I even finished the story in a manner similar to what I had intended at the beginning, vaguely. I had intended for one character in particular to show up here, and he does, just not in the way I had originally intended.

Outside the warehouse, the Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, and Seventh Doctors had willingly armed themselves with the specialty weapons designed to target Cybermen, anti-Cybermen guns and hand pulsers, as did Captain Jack Harkness, Martha Jones, Barbara Chesterton, Ace, Polly Jackson, Sarah Jane Smith, even Donna and Sabalom Glitz had gotten hand pulsers as a last-resort weapon to protect themselves with. The only Doctors who weren't armed were the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors, who seemed to despise the use of such weapons, but they still coordinated the battle plan and subdivided their forces to put Ace, Captain Jack Harkness, and Martha Jones near the front alongside a few of the armed Doctors, while the others would take up the rear. Barbara wound up with the Tenth Doctor and Donna, who were admittedly a fun pair to be around.

Occasionally, Polly Jackson would glance out to the Thames, wondering if she would spy a ship of the Royal Navy sailing this way, until the Seventh Doctor told her that Ben's forces wouldn't be ready to join them in the initial assault, but that they would be here eventually. The Eleventh Doctor and Jack opened up the warehouse doors as soon as they heard the signal from the Eighth Doctor, "Geronimo," after he and Victoria had been freed by the Sixth Doctor, who had planted himself and Tegan amongst the Theologians of the 4th Quarter a few hours ago.

Barbara shook her head and remarked, "This is a very complicated plan."

"It took us long enough to organize it." The Tenth Doctor remarked as they charged forward into the warehouse with the rest.

The Sixth Doctor and Tegan had already picked off several Cybermen, and continued firing as the main party joined them from the opposite side. The Theologians of the 4th Quarter attempted to stop the pair, but the Eighth Doctor used some of his old Venusian aikido on a few of them and Victoria knocked a couple of them out so that the rest started to flee. Then the Eighth Doctor and Victoria huddled down, taking stock of their situation before they moved towards the coffin section to search for Susan again.

However, either one of the Cybermen or one of the Theologians had managed to sound an alarm and now, throughout the warehouse, some more dormant Cybermen were waking up to join the fight. Tegan and the Sixth Doctor continued to hold the Cyber transformation room, a key position to prevent any cyber-conversion of themselves and others, while the Seventh Doctor and Martha Jones guarded the warehouse entrance, their exit. Sabalom Glitz was also kept in the Cyber Transformation room, to watch out for him more than anything else.

The rest continued forward into the main portion of the warehouse to rescue civilians and fortify their escape route. The Tenth and Eleventh Doctors quickly set to work waking up civilians and ushering them out of the warehouse, while the Eighth Doctor and Victoria were armed themselves. The group took up key positions, with Donna and Barbara next to each other at the rear, as the Cybermen started to approach; the group fired at them, again and again, and while Barbara managed to keep up with the pace of the fight, it was exhausting and she felt like it wasn't right. This wasn't something that was supposed to happen when paired up with the Doctor, not this type of fighting, anyway, with guns and everything else. Occasionally, there had been some violence during their travels, even involving guns, but not directly involving the Doctor. It just wasn't something that he did, even if others around him did.

"Do you need a rest, ma'am?" Donna asked, turning around to face Barbara once. "I can take over if you want to go." She nodded towards the exit.

Barbara shook her head and said, "No, I'm still game if you are."

"All right, then, suit yourself. Just be careful not to wear yourself out." Donna remarked as she used her hand pulser again.

"I can take care of myself." Barbara muttered. She hated being treated like a child or an old woman, even if she was the latter.

Once or twice, as Barbara glanced around, she thought that she saw another person engaged in the fight that she didn't recognize from all of the other familiar companions that she had met; a young woman with long brown hair tied up in a ponytail, firing her anti-Cybermen gun like an expert at the approaching cyborgs. However, no one else seemed to notice her or comment on her appearance, so she just assumed that maybe this was another of the Doctor's companions, like Tegan, who had slipped in here a few hours before in preparation for the fight. In fact, if Barbara squinted hard enough, she thought that their party might actually be bigger than she had first assumed, that there might be dozens more that she had never seen before…

At this point, the warehouse windows were broken as UNIT soldiers and Royal Marines finally swung into the warehouse and joined the fight, using their own weapons against the Cybermen, and disrupting Barbara's vision. With that, the Eighth Doctor shouted, "Susan! I found her!" Then the Doctors and all of their companions, with a dazed, half-awake Susan amongst them, quickly retreated out of the warehouse along with the last of the civilians, leaving the fight to the Royal Marines and UNIT. All of the Cybermen were soon quelled.

Barbara stared at Susan in the distance, shocked at her unchanged appearance, not a day older than she had been when she, Barbara, and Ian first traveled together with the Doctor. Of course, she was the Doctor's granddaughter, which might explain her youthful vitality.

"Susan! Are you all right?" Barbara called out to her former student in the distance, worried about her. The last time she had seen Susan, the Doctor had left her behind with a young man named David in the ruins of London, which had been decimated by the Daleks. Susan turned around at the sound of her name being called, and glanced around, but her eyes slipped over Barbara without recognizing her. It hurt for a moment, not being recognized by her former student.

"I suppose it has been awhile." Barbara murmured, thinking of her own changed appearance, "Almost 45 years for me."

The Tenth Doctor grimaced, realizing what she was saying, and whispered, "Barbara, this is before she met you. We haven't traveled to 1963 yet. She doesn't know who you are. For that matter, she doesn't know who any of us are, which is probably for the best." He sighed.

Barbara stared at the Tenth Doctor and said, "You mean…oh, Doctor, this must be so hard on all of you, but…is your older, younger self here in this time period, my Doctor, the First?" She asked.

"Yep, and he's searching for her right now. Let's get them reunited." The Tenth Doctor remarked with a sad smile.

As Admiral Ben Jackson and his ship of Royal Marines had arrived at the warehouse dock, a flock of UNIT soldiers in jeeps, a helicopter, and even a tank arrived on the landward side, effectively surrounding the Cybermen's warehouse. The Royal Marines stomped off of the ship, prepared to surround and enter the warehouse by various ways, before Ben ran down the gangplank and went around towards the front of the warehouse, in time to meet the Brigadier, Harry, and a stranger Ben assumed to be the Ninth Doctor, in their jeep.

They hailed each other, smiling slightly, and then watched the proceedings with the Brigadier and the Ninth Doctor occasionally calling out commands. A few of the UNIT soldiers stayed behind to round up escaping civilians and Theologians alike, to question and process them accordingly if they were innocent or guilty of aligning with the Cybermen, while the rest joined the Royal Marines in invading the warehouse.

Ben glanced back at the Ninth Doctor, and then after awhile, he eventually asked, "Remind you of anything?"

"Could you be a little bit more specific, Ben? I've been through a hell of a lot more, and it starts to blur together." The Ninth Doctor said. Harry and the Brigadier grimaced at each other.

"WOTAN. The War Machines." Ben said.

"I think I remember that." Harry said. "I was just a young man, barely more than a boy, when they issued an alarm about WOTAN and those machines. They tried to hush it up afterwards, and people forgot, but I knew that it had happened."

"That caused quite a stir," The Brigadier agreed with Harry, nodding. "I had just been promoted as a captain. First time I had to take command of a unit as we prepared to face those War Machines, although we never had to."

The Ninth Doctor paused a moment and slowly nodded. "That's right. We faced one of those War Machines, coming out of a warehouse near Covent Garden." He said to Ben.

"You faced it, alone." Ben said. "When all of those soldiers were on the run, their weapons jammed, you strode out there, a wizened old man with eyes like a hawk, and faced it down alone. From where I stood, amongst those faltering men, I almost thought you stopped it yourself, with the power of your hypnotizing gaze."

"That was a different me, a younger, foolish me, ages ago." The Ninth Doctor commented. "I wouldn't have done that now. And it was a little bit more complicated than that. The programming was faulty, I knew it would shudder to a halt before it got much further. Too much exertion in that fire fight, jamming all of those guns."

"Still, you did it, and it probably wasn't as certain as all that." Ben remarked. "You could not have known if you would get blasted or not."

"Ah, forget about it," The Ninth Doctor said, shaking his head.

"He's right, you know." The Brigadier remarked. "You may have been through or seen a lot in your time, but those old faces, the lives you used to live…they are still in there, you know, all of the old bluster and courage. I've seen that."

"I know that well." The Ninth Doctor said, grimacing. "I'm not ready yet to face the monsters again. To face me again." He said.

"Leave him alone." Harry said. "If he says he's not ready, he's not ready. I can understand that."

"I can't believe I'm siding with Harry." The Ninth Doctor said, rolling his eyes.

"What's wrong with that?" Harry asked, causing the others to laugh. Finally, the last group of civilians came out, along with a very large, familiar group of people; the Brigadier, Harry, Ben and the Ninth Doctor all straightened up and stared at the scene, the group of survivors who had been through so much together over the years.

"Blimey, there's so many of them." The Brigadier said, recognizing all of the familiar faces. "So many yous, I should say." He commented.

"Yeah." The Ninth Doctor said, staring down at the ground and looking away when he could not stand being confronted by his past and future selves right now. He knew so much more than his past selves did about the Time War and he did not want to reveal how horribly wrong everything went; if they just looked into his eyes, they would know what had happened and what he had done, he feared.

Harry and Ben had gotten out of the jeep, and rushed forward to greet the group of companions and Doctors, including Sarah Jane and Polly, but the Ninth Doctor didn't move as the Brigadier slowly withdrew. "Are you sure?" He asked the Ninth Doctor.

"Go ahead and go." The Ninth Doctor muttered.

"All right, have it your own way," The Brigadier muttered, leaving the Ninth Doctor in a huff. The Ninth Doctor eyed the Brigadier as he went over to greet the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors.

He did not really want to see his future selves either, because he did not really believe that he had a future at this point, nor did he even want to have a future right now, even though he had glimpsed it. And seeing his future selves would just make him angry, for they knew just as much as he did about the Time War, maybe even more so, yet they had not revealed anything to his past selves, they had been able to conceal it, admittedly for the same reason that he did, to avoid paradoxes, but still. He wished that he had known before about the Time War, if there was some way of stopping the Time War, stopping himself from destroying everything, he would have done anything to prevent it.

For their part, the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors steered their group away from the Brigadier's jeep as much as possible, knowing who was there, and knowing what he was going through at this point, since they had been him not that long ago. Though the pain of the Time War still hurt them, it had gotten better for them, and perhaps they wanted to avoid the most painful reminder of the more recent past, and wallow in the simulated joy of a past long ago, but still with them, when the Time Lords had been alive and the Doctor had almost been a casual traveler, before it completely faded away.

He walked along the sidewalk, quietly humming a favorite old song to himself, one that he cherished very much as a reminder of happier times that he had spent with friends, friends who were now long gone. He kicked a little bit of trash that someone had dropped out of his way with nothing better to do to occupy his time. It was quiet this morning, not much happening around here. Apparently there had been a commuter train crash earlier, but that was in another borough far from here, and he had not really paid much attention to the news about it. He figured that whatever happened, it would be dealt with.

It had been a really bizarre year for him. Ever since…he tried not to think about it too much, but he had a really stark reminder of that event. He tried to remain hopeful and upbeat, for her sake if not for his own, so that she wouldn't worry so much, but sometimes, he felt himself cracking under the pressure.

For the past couple of weeks now, he had been calling this coffee shop; at first it had been just an accident, when he was trying to contact anyone at Royal Hope Hospital, even though it had already vanished, taken to the moon, though he did not know that at the time. He just thought that if a big London hospital just happened to have vanished in the middle of a bizarre, localized precipitation event, with the rain falling up, then the Doctor had to be involved in it somehow, even if the Doctor was trying to stop it. He just had to warn them of what to expect when the Doctor was around; he wished that someone could have warned him and his friends not to look for the Doctor, that it was too dangerous, but it was too late for them now.

But then again, did he really just want to warn somebody at Royal Hope Hospital about the danger of dealing with the Doctor, or did he also want to get into contact with the Doctor again? (Not like old times, though.) Did he want to tell the Doctor, face to face, that the alien had ruined his life? Perhaps that was obvious, considering what had happened to him, his mother, and friends, but he just wanted it to be clear, to see the look on the Doctor's face, the guilt and horror that the Doctor must feel about his actions, the same as he felt sometimes, when he was thinking back on everything in the dead of night while she was asleep, wondering if he could have changed it somehow. He couldn't wait to see that. And yet would the Doctor feel that? Would the Doctor even know about such guilt and horror? What if the Doctor had gone through so much, and done so much, traveling in that blue box of his, that the Doctor couldn't feel anything anymore? Then the Doctor truly would be an alien.

He actually wound up applying for a job at the same coffee shop that he had accidently called, again quite by accident, but then again, he knew that his wrong call had to be for a coffee shop in the vicinity of Royal Hope Hospital, considering that he had to be just a number or more off. And this particular coffee shop was the closest…the chances were slim, and yet he was right, the next time he called to check on his job application, that woman who answered the first time was on the phone. And he babbled. He babbled so much that he didn't even know what he said, he just wanted to offload so much, and he couldn't talk to his girlfriend about it all when she was in a more difficult place, dealing with her own situation. It wouldn't be fair to her.

But the woman on the other end of the line wasn't exactly helpful as told him that her job was tough, that he should go seek help, and that Mr. Saxon would correct things just before she hung up. Yeah, right, that had not exactly turned out well. Mr. Saxon was dead in some pretty bizarre circumstances; made him wonder if the Doctor had been involved…

So he had called the coffee shop again about a week later, and again, the other woman had hung up on him, after telling him to go seek help. Maybe he should, but what exactly could he tell a psychologist? "My mother was killed by a shadow monster when I was a child, my friends were all absorbed into some giant monster, except for one who became a slab of concrete, and she and I are having some relationship issues. And the man who I had been searching for my whole life turned out to be more interested in berating me than in saving me at first? And though he did save my girlfriend, albeit by turning her into a slab of concrete, still, it wasn't enough to help her." Not a very good session, straight to the insane asylum. Elton really did not want to go through with that.

So Elton was walking along, wondering if he should go back home and check on how Ursula was doing, when an old man, dressed in an odd looking suit, came up to him. "Excuse me, young man, I wonder if you can help me, hmm?" The old man asked, looking up at Elton.

"What seems to be the trouble?" He asked.

"I've lost my granddaughter. She's about yea tall," The old man gestured, "A teenager with dark hair, round brown eyes, a round face with a lovely smile, dressed in a shirt and black pants." The old man said.

Elton shook his head and said, "I'm sorry I can't help you, but I haven't seen any teenage girls fitting that description. Um, perhaps you might try looking around…" He turned around, wondering if there were any shops nearby where the girl might have gone.

"Grandfather!" They heard a girl's voice cry out, and turned around to see a teenage girl, fitting the old man's description, running over towards them.

"Susan!" The old man cried, spreading his arms out and welcoming the girl into his embrace. For a moment, Elton stared at the peaceful, warm scene, and wished that he could hold Ursula in the same way in his arms. He tried his best at times, rubbing his face next to hers, but sometimes, all he could feel was the cold concrete that she had been pried out of.

"Don't scare me like that, Susan." The old man said, breaking off the warm embrace. "Now where were you, eh? You've been gone for hours. I was looking for you all night."

"It was a horrible nightmare." Susan said, shaking her head. "I was so frightened. I had to run to get away from them, I don't know why they wanted me, but then I was captured. Everything went black for awhile. I thought I was dead, but then some people saved me and some others, they got us out of the building and away from those monsters." Susan glanced around. "They're over there, my rescuers." She pointed.

The old man looked up, and stared off into the distance, towards the alleyway with an expression of shock and awe. Elton looked up, and saw a small crowd of people standing there, of various ages, although most of them were old, men and women, and amongst them…Elton spotted the Doctor he knew. And there were several others…when LINDA had been searching for the Doctor, with Victor Kennedy's help, there had been files on all of these men who had been known as the Doctor, and they were there as well. In that moment, Elton knew that they were all the same.

"Yes, well…" The 'older' voice hesitantly said, and Elton turned around to stare at the First Doctor, recognizing him as well. "Come along, Susan, we better be going," The First Doctor said, tugging at his granddaughter.

"Grandfather…" Susan muttered, but she ran off after him down the street.

Elton hesitated, not quite sure what to do, as he saw the First Doctor departing, and then turned around to see the other crowd dispersing…who should he follow? Who should he talk to first? And was there any point in talking to any one of them? For there were so many, and he wasn't even certain what he should say to any of them anymore, especially if they didn't understand his plight, or maybe they understood it too well. For Rose wasn't with the Doctor he had first met, but these other people who weren't the Doctor, perhaps they had been like Elton, or more like Rose once, people who had traveled with the Doctor and then had left the Doctor or been abandoned by the Doctor. Perhaps the Doctor left a trail of broken hearts wherever he went.

The Tenth Doctor, the one he had first met, stood there and nodded at Elton, waving slightly. Elton hesitated, tried to smile, and waved back at him before he left as quickly as he could, not wanting to get any further involved in this mess. It was time for him to stop chasing after the Doctor. He had to go talk to Ursula.

Barbara sighed, seeing her First Doctor and Susan leave, to travel once more into her past, and then noticed the other young man, waving and smiling at them before he departed. Barbara turned to the Tenth Doctor and asked, "Was he waving at us? Have you met him before?"

"Oh, yes, once, twice, three times I should say, awhile ago…an ordinary man named Elton, by all accounts, yet he's seen more than most people have." The Tenth Doctor said and sighed. "At least he's gone now."

Barbara shook her head, not quite understanding, as she said, "You miss Susan very much, don't you?"

"Every day, though I try not to let it phase me." The Tenth Doctor murmured. "One day, I shall come back, yes, I did say that, and here I am. I just went further back than I had intended." He murmured as Barbara sighed and patted him on the back.

"So, Doctor," Donna said, coming up to them, not noticing what was going on between them. "I've been thinking and I would like to join you…"

"Uh, not quite yet, Donna," The Eleventh Doctor said, coming up to her.

"Oi, why the hell not?" Donna asked.

"Yeah, why not?" The Tenth Doctor asked, turning around, starting an argument between them as the other Doctors took their leave of their companions, and went off in search of their individual TARDISes scattered about the city, and the companions smiled and joked amongst themselves as they left, returning to their own lives, with Barbara and Donna soon amongst them.

A short distance away, unseen by any of the others, Clara 'Oswin' Oswald walked off towards her Doctor and asked, "Problem solved?"

"Problem solved." The Twelfth Doctor said, smiling. "Let's move on." And they left, with that familiar vworp sound fading into the vortex…

THE END...for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elton Pope; I had intended from the start of the story in 2007, just before series three aired and after series two did, that he would cause some trouble and threaten the Companion Coffee Shop, mourning the loss of Ursula, who had died as a slab of pavement. But I gave him a somewhat benign ending here, at least the chance to see all of the Doctors and companions gathered together and to move on with his life, leaving the Companion Coffee Shop behind.
> 
> And though I did not know that Peter Capaldi had been chosen as the Twelfth Doctor, I figured that he/she (again, didn't know for sure) would be around. I thought it would be fitting, moving forward, to acknowledge the past and future interacting with each other. Thus the line 'In fact, if Barbara squinted hard enough, she thought that their party might actually be bigger than she had first assumed, that there might be dozens more that she had never seen before…'
> 
> There will always be more companions and more Doctors moving on. The End.


End file.
